


Gilded Shade and Crimson Ice

by TiaLewise



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Blindshipping, Character Death, Deathshipping, Demon/Human War, M/M, Rebellion, Thiefshipping, World of Darkness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 79,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaLewise/pseuds/TiaLewise
Summary: In a land overtaken by darkness and demons, it's kill or be killed. Amongst the chaos, a young man walks free from his isolated former life and finds his place in the world through blood, fire, friendship, and love. When every moment could be your last, you seize your chances and you hold on tight.Renamed from "Heart of Gold, Soul of Shade"





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> __  
>  **I was suddenly seized by an idea a few days ago, to write an AU set in some kind of post-apocalyptic world. I don't know where it's going to take me, but I've got plans for the next couple of chapters at least, and I'll be trying to write them in between my university studies.**   
> 

* * *

Kemet. Once a majestic land of gold, jewels and beauty. Admired near and far, the nation prospered and flourished, giving its people all it needed. Or so I've heard, anyway. To live here was to truly be alive.

Until the Dark One came.

Since then, it's been hell on earth.

My name is Marik Ishtar. I'm eighteen years old, and seven days ago, I first saw the outside world.

It's just how the stories described…dead, lifeless, and teeming with the ever-present sense of evil. I could turn back, but there's nothing left for me at the place I once called home. Nothing but death, isolation and despair. I am the only survivor of my people. I'd cry for them, but I've nothing left to cry with. Near every emotion was stripped from me on the day of my initiation into the cult that raised me.

But now they're gone, and I must fend for myself. I can read and write, but there are no signs or maps in this wasteland to direct me to the nearest town. It feels like I've been wandering forever, simply hoping I might find civilisation soon. I'm exhausted, sore, wounded, and ill. The day I fled the tombs, my thigh was cut with a knife, and it has festered since. Now a fever ravages my body, and if I don't find a town soon, I'm going to die. It might be better for me to keel over and just pass away in this godforsaken world, but shrouded in darkness or not, this is my chance to live, to experience everything I have been denied. I will not die yet. I can't.

And yet, as the sun beats down upon me, every step feels like my legs weigh a ton. I don't know how much a ton actually weighs, but I'm told it's a lot. My chest burns with every breath and my head is hot and feels thick with fog. My leg screams in protest every time I move, scabs cracking and leaking blood through the makeshift bandage I tied around the wound. It's useless. If I don't make it, at least I know I didn't go down without a fight.

I can't…I can't take another step. It hurts so much.

I sit down heavily on a rock and hold my head in my hands, groaning in pain. I had no knowledge of the herbs, salves and poultices used extensively by the women in the tombs, but if I had, I might have been able to save myself. If I'm lucky, I might lose my leg. If I'm a little more fortunate, I might slip into a coma and be blissfully unaware of the agony.

No…no, I can't stop now. Move, Marik…move.

But I don't make more than a few more steps before my leg gives out and I collapse into the dirt. It feels cool and comforting against the heat of my fevered complexion. Maybe I should just…lie down here awhile and…and close my eyes…

I guess nobody could say I didn't try to survive.


	2. Chapter 2

The afterlife is soft and fuzzy, all warm blankets and springy mattresses. I like this. I could get used to this. With a sigh, I roll over and nuzzle into the exquisite bliss surrounding me.

Wait…wait just one second. This isn't the afterlife. I'm…I'm alive. But how?

I open my eyes and push myself upright in bed. Somebody must have found me…there's no way I could have made it anywhere, but I don't remember anyone coming for me. A dull ache pounds in my leg and I look down to see the wound has been cleaned and covered with a fresh bandage. My body has been scrubbed clean and feels softer than I have ever experienced in my life, and when I touch my hair, I realise that too has been washed thoroughly. Whoever found me is taking great care of me, but why?

Oh, and I'm naked. There's that too. My robes were pretty shredded in my escape, so I suppose that's a positive.

"Oh, you're awake!"

The soft voice makes me look up, and for the first time, I take in my surroundings. I'm in a tiny, run-down room, all wood panelling and faded gold gilding. The bed I'm in is worn, rusted iron, but the sheets are clean, and everything in the room has an air of tiredness.

A boy around my age, dressed in a smart shirt and dark jeans, stands in the doorway. He's unlike any boy I've ever seen before. His skin is white like alabaster, and I've never seen snow, but his hair reminds me of what I've been told it's like. He has a kind face and twinkling brown eyes, and the dagger strapped to his thigh looks strange, contrasting with his demure appearance. In this life, though, you can never be too prepared for whatever is lurking around the corner.

I'm so surprised by the boy that it takes me a few moments to respond. "Um…where am I?" I ask.

"Amarna," the boy replies, stepping into the room. I know of Amarna from the books I read in the tombs; it was the closest town to us, and was very prosperous before the darkness came. "You've been sleeping for two days. We found you just outside town, close to death. I put you to bed and gave you medicine in the hopes that you could be saved."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "My brother tells me I'm too nice for my own good." He gestures to the foot of the bed. "May I sit?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." He sits down and crosses his legs, resting his head on his hands. "I'm Ryou Bakura. I run the tavern below. What's your name?"

"Marik Ishtar. A tavern, did you say?"

"Yeah, this is the only one for miles around. We get a lot of mercenaries and bounty hunters coming through, so it's a pretty busy place. My sister has been holding down the fort while I've been popping up to look after you."

Ryou has a very pretty face, so pretty it's hard to believe he's male, but I can see strife and sadness in his eyes. He has the eyes of someone who has experienced too much, too young. I can relate to that.

I shift in the bed, twitching the sheets a little to cover my nakedness. "Ryou, was it?" I ask. "I don't know anything much of this world. Can you tell me the present situation?"

"What do you mean?" Ryou asks.

"I was…I was raised in an underground cult from infancy. I'd been out of their tombs for a week before I collapsed. Till then, I'd never seen the sun, or the landscape. All I know about Kemet is written in manuscripts and books that were already with us, or from old stories told to us as children."

Ryou's eyes widen in shock. "I had heard that there were cults that had hidden themselves away…but I never thought to meet anyone who had left their clutches. Why did you leave?"

"A plague took most of them. My sister was the first to die, and one by one they all fell. By the end, only my father and I were left. He was mad with grief and illness, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I tried to leave, but he attacked me, so I took his knife and plunged it into his gut."

The way I say it, I might have been enquiring about the weather, but I don't feel a thing as I recall my last moments in the tombs. I suppose I should feel sad, or guilty, but no. There's just blissful nothingness.

Ryou barely reacts. His eyes never leave mine, but his face is impassive. All he does is reach out and take my hand, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry. That must have been very hard on you, but however you look at it, you're free now," he murmurs. "Free to forge your own destiny. Now, I believe you wanted to know the current situation here…"

He utters a soft, sad sigh. "Marik, it's spread beyond Kemet. The neighbouring nations have been afflicted with the darkness for over a decade. You can't even take a step outside without arming yourself to the teeth with weapons, or you'll be dead within the hour. The mercenaries here keep the vulnerable safe, but it's more a question of when we die, rather than if. It's inevitable…but all we know is to fight against the monsters."

The neighbouring nations…I know nothing of them, only their names. Nihon to the west, Ezo to the south. "You aren't from here, are you?" I ask Ryou. "There was nobody among us with skin as pale as yours."

He shakes his head. "My siblings and I came from Ezo. Our parents wanted to find a safer place to raise us, but nowhere was safe. They died when I was five."

I had no idea that the horrors had spread beyond Kemet. It seems there is no sanctuary in this world now. I might have been better off staying in the tombs and dying of the plague after all.

And yet, I have so much to explore, world of darkness or not. After everything I have been through, I can't give up here.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. I don't know if that's the right thing to say to someone who has lost their parents as I have, but it's all I can think of.

Ryou just nods, then casts his eye to an old clock on the wall and clicks his tongue thoughtfully. "Tou should be back soon. I'm going to head back down to the bar and keep an eye out. If you feel well enough to be up and about, there are clothes in the wardrobe. Help yourself to whatever fits you."

"Thanks," I nod. Ryou flashes me a brief smile and eases himself off the bed, leaving the room.

Okay…let's test my leg. It aches horribly when I swing my legs out of the bed and test my weight, but it holds, and I manage to limp to the wardrobe, throwing it open. There's not much inside, but they appear to be Ryou's clothes and he's just a tad shorter than me with a similar build, so it all should fit. I pull on a loose shirt and patched, faded jeans, and tie my hair up, out of my face. As I turn around, meaning to head for the door, a glint catches my eye. A mirror, leaning against the wall. I've heard of them, but never seen one. They say you can see yourself in them. Curiosity overcomes me, and I struggle over to inspect it, and myself.

A startled young man stares back at me, thin, tired and world-weary before his time. Glittering lavender eyes set in an angular face with skin the colour of the caramel my mother used to make as a treat when I was young. Shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair. Deep, ugly scars stretch down the plain of my back, something I was made to treasure as a child, but now they are a horror I would sooner rid myself of.

This is me. This is who I am. For now, till I experience enough of the world to forge myself anew.

* * *

The tavern is two floors down, and I hear lively chatter and rowdy laughter as I approach. Tentatively, I push the door leading to it open and peer around.

The same air of age and disrepair abounds, but the place is clean, obviously well-loved, and quite busy, as Ryou said. Several men and women sit in the corner, playing cards and smoking. A few more are seated at the bar, talking with a petite young girl in a floaty pink dress. Her hair is the same brilliant white as Ryou's, though hers is held up in a high ponytail. I presume she's Ryou's sister.

Ryou himself is leaning against the doorway leading outside, a hand over his dagger as if expecting an attack, his other hand occasionally clicking its fingers and creating small sparks of flame. His back is to me, and I don't wish to disturb him right now, so I carefully slip into the room and make my way over to the counter.

The young girl looks up as I approach and smiles. "Ah, Ryou's latest medical emergency. How do you feel?"

"Tired," I reply. "You're Ryou's sister?"

"That's right. I'm Amane. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I'm Marik. Forgive my rudeness, but you look very young to be manning a bar."

Amane laughs merrily. "Yeah, probably. I'm fifteen, but somebody's got to mind the place, and Ryou and Tou are usually out fighting, so it's just me here a lot of the time. Here, sit down." She holds up a finger to the men at the bar, and slides over to me as I hoist myself up on a seat. She reaches under the counter and passes me a small tablet. "You should keep taking these for a while to keep your infection at bay," she tells me. "Ryou could only do so much with his magic, but he managed to save your leg."

"Magic?" I swallow the tablet offered without hesitation, knowing she means me no harm.

"Mm. He's quite the mage, though he's better with offensive spells than he is with healing. Still, it's a useful skill to have in this day and age."

I recall the small flames Ryou was conjuring at the door, and wonder if that was part of his magic too. I lean my elbows on the bar, looking around. All the patrons look as if they've been through many battles, and they bear scars on their arms, their faces; burns and welts mar any other patches of free skin, their clothing frayed and torn. I was isolated and tortured in the tombs, but I have never endured anything like these people will have done.

All that might be about to change.

"Amane," I say quietly. "I've much I need to see in this world. I've been away from Kemet my whole life, and now I'm out in the open, I have to do my part. I want to fight the darkness. Where do I begin?"

She gives a small, knowing smile. "I suppose the best person to ask is my big brother, Tou. He's the one who keeps us all safe around here." She looks up at Ryou, who glances back at her and gives a thumbs-up as he turns away from the door. "And it looks like he's coming back right now. I'll warn you, he's a bit brusque, but he'll warm to you if he likes you."

Ryou slips into a seat beside me and grins. "Feeling alright, Marik?"

"I think so."

A few minutes later, a collective cheer rises up from the patrons as a hooded figure steps inside the btavern Amane reaches over to clasp Ryou's hand, giggling, while he looks relieved.

"Alright, alright," the figure laughs, waving towards the crowd. He lowers his hood and shakes out a shock of shaggy silver hair, darker than Ryou's and Amane's and longer than both of theirs, reaching the small of his back and mostly tied back in a messy braid. Tou appears to be around twenty-five years old. His eyes are the same deep brown as his siblings, a long scar stretching from his forehead, down his right eye and cheek. Unlike his siblings, who are paler than pale, Tou's skin has a slight tan. Dressed in an unusual ensemble of burgundy hooded top, indigo cargo pants and floor-length, black trench coat, he doesn't look much like any mercenary I've ever heard of.

"Welcome back, big brother!" Amane trills. She jumps over the bar to give him a hug, which he returns with a ruffle of her hair. Ryou just smiles at him, waving. "We have someone over here who'd like to chat with you," Amane tells Tou.

He looks down at her with a frown. He's short, shorter than Ryou, but Amane is tiny and barely comes up to Tou's chest. "At least let me sit down and have a fucking beer, Amane," he growls. "Jeez. Been out there for two damn weeks…"

"Okay," she giggles, stepping back. "I'll get you one. Usual?"

"That's my girl." Tou grins at her and sits down wearily at the bar, dropping his head to the worn, scratched wood with a sigh.

He seems very well respected here. The various men and women come up at intervals to clap him on the shoulder and catch up. He's clearly exhausted, but he takes the time to talk with them all in between swigs of beer and drags on an offered cigarette.

After about an hour, the crowd finally clears, and Tou is on his second beer. He glances over at me, sat stiffly at the bar beside Ryou, rubbing my wounded leg and wincing. "You the one?" he asks gruffly. "The one my sister said wanted to talk to me?"

"Um, yeah," I reply, startled. "Your brother, he…he found me outside and saved my life."

Tou sighs heavily, drumming his fingers on the counter. "Ryou, you have to stop taking in every injured soul you find. It's fucking hard enough trying to survive on our own without you nursing all the reprobates life throws at us and using up our medicine stocks."

"Charming," Ryou mutters, head buried in a newspaper. "Heaven forbid I do a good thing."

"There's no heaven here," Tou snorts, "only hell. Right, kid…what do you want to know?"

Wow, he's grumpy. It washes over me, though I'm sure if I had any kind of working emotions I'd be slightly affronted by his tone. Instead I lean forward and tell him firmly, "I want to do what you do. Ryou tells me you keep this area safe. I can use a knife and a sword, so I can fight whenever needed. You don't have to take me under your wing, but at least point me in the right direction and I can be on my way."

"No, Marik," Ryou chides gently. "You're injured. You need to rest some more before I'm willing to let you go anywhere."

"Hold on a moment, Ryou," Tou says, narrowing his eyes at me. "Who the hell are you, kid? Nobody waltzes in here and  _wants_ to be a mercenary, or hunt monsters for the fun of it. Where did you come from? I know everyone around here, and you aren't familiar at all. Spill it. I'm not feeling particularly patient tonight, so make it quick so I can get some shut-eye."

Brusque really wasn't the word I would have used to describe Tou. Rude and downright irritable would be what I would say. But I tell him what I told Ryou: that I fled my underground cult just over a week ago, that I had no working knowledge of the outside world, and I wanted to find my place.

This seems to catch Tou's attention. "Hmmm…a tomb-keeper," he muses. "I've heard stories about your kind over the years. Interesting. Alright, colour me intrigued. That leg of yours, is it serious?"

"It was," I admit. "I don't know now."

"Yes, it's serious!" Ryou cuts in. "Tou, don't go testing him yet. He isn't well enough."

"Tomorrow then," he says, draining the last of his beer. "You heal him up some more tonight, and I want him outside first thing tomorrow morning for a test of his abilities. If he passes, he comes out with me. If not, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, but it won't be on my watch, and he fends for himself if he stays here."

Ryou doesn't look the least bit impressed, and Amane is just watching with a worried expression as she cleans glasses. But I nod. "Thank you, Tou."

He grunts in reply, sliding his empty glass to Amane. "Only these two call me Tou. It's Touzo, but everyone else here calls me by our surname, or Kura for short. Either's fine. Now, if we're done here, I'm going to bed." He hops off his stool and brushes his hair out of his tired eyes. "You'd better do the same if you stand any chance of impressing me tomorrow. What's your name, kid?"

"Marik Ishtar."

"I'll probably forget that by morning. See you then." He gives me a playful punch on the shoulder as he breezes past to head upstairs.

Well…that certainly was an experience. I've never encountered anyone like this trio of siblings. Polite Ryou with his magic, tougher-than-she-looks Amane, gruff and powerful Touzo. Somehow, they've managed to survive out here in this shadowy wasteland, and pulled together a protective force to boot in the mercenaries and bounty hunters that frequent the tavern.

I'll be safe here, or as safe as can be. But I have to do my bit and get stronger. I'm by no means weak, being used to hard work in the tombs, and I can fight, but I just know that I'm nowhere near the level of the people around me. Even Amane looks like she might be able to pull a knife on me and slit my throat at a moment's notice.

A soft tingling in my thigh makes me twitch in surprise, and I look down to see Ryou's hand placed over it. I'd been so deep in thought that I hadn't felt him touch me. "Sorry," he smiles. "Didn't mean to make you jump."

"No, it's okay," I reply. "Are you healing me?"

"Yeah, just a little more, anyway. Tou's super serious when he spars, and I don't want you ripping this open, not after I worked so hard to save you."

"How can you use magic?" I ask. "I thought it was just the stuff of legend."

He grimaces, pursing his lips. "It's a side effect of being corrupted by the shadows and surviving...I'd rather not talk too much about it now, but I found I could harness my spells not long after my parents died. I've gathered quite an arsenal since then."

"So you're pretty well-versed in the occult."

"You could say that," he smiles sadly. "I paid a terrible price for my magic, but it's helped to keep us all alive up to now, so I can't complain too much." He draws his hand back and exhales heavily. "How does that feel?"

The wound now just gives the occasional throb, nothing that will bother me too much. I nod, grateful, and he grins at me, clearly pleased with his handiwork. "Great. Well, I can't say I'm too happy that Tou's going to try and beat the crap out of you tomorrow, but at any rate, it's nice to have someone around that's closer to my age. You  _will_ be sticking around for a while, right?"

"Yeah…just till I get my bearings, anyway." I scratch my head awkwardly. "If it's no trouble with you, of course."

"No trouble at all. Don't listen to my brother when he complains. He just likes to bitch about anything he can." He glances out of the window at the setting sun. "It isn't all that late, but you should get some rest. He'll be shaking you awake at the crack of dawn."

I don't even know what dawn is, but I'll take his word for it. I  _am_  still feeling very worn out, so I bid goodnight to Ryou and Amane, and drag myself upstairs, back to the room I woke up in. It's darker in here now, and it makes me a little nervous. There were bright lights overhead in the tavern, and there's something in the corner that resembles them, so I go over to look at it. A switch at the base catches my attention, and I press it curiously. Sudden light floods the room and I feel my anxiety dissipate almost instantly. What a marvellous invention. All we had underground were wick lamps and torches.

I clamber back into the comfortable bed with the soft sheets, curling up with a sigh.

Is this home? For now? Have I found my first friends?

What will my place in this world be?

I don't know. The road ahead of me is dark, but I mean to light the way.

My name is Marik Ishtar. I'm eighteen years old, and today, I took my first steps into my new life.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turns out, the crack of dawn is when the sun is just beginning to rise. It’s still dark outside and I’m groggy and grouchy, but Tou – no, he prefers Bakura - true to Ryou’s word, is shaking me awake. “Get up, kid,” he growls, flicking me hard in the centre of my forehead.

“Ow!” I swat his hand away. “I’m up, I’m up. What did you do that for?”

He shrugs. “Meet me downstairs. I’ve made tea.” Poking my forehead, a little gentler this time, he bares his teeth in a grin and stalks from the room. Grumbling, I pull myself into a sitting position and rub my eyes, cursing the intruder of my sleep…not that I got much sleep anyway. My nightmares saw to that.

When I pad to the next floor down, in the same clothes as I wore yesterday, Bakura is clattering about in the kitchen, seemingly looking for mugs. He looks a little ruffled from sleep, but none the worse for wear despite the alcohol he drank before we turned in. His back is turned, but his head jerks up slightly as I approach, sending a cascade of loose silver hair down his back like a waterfall.

“Tell me about your training,” he says quietly. “I’m not going to go easy on you, but I also don’t want to kill you within five seconds, or Ryou will never let me hear the end of it. So tell me what you learned, how, and the frequency of your practice.”

“You kill many aspiring mercenaries?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s happened before.” Bakura passes me a mug of tea with a nonchalant expression.

“You sound very casual on the matter.”

“Can’t dwell on this stuff. Messes your head up.” Bakura leans back against the kitchen counter, sipping from his mug. “You going to tell me or not?”

“Ah…sorry.” I copy him, leaning back and sipping. I haven’t tasted this kind of tea before. It’s sweet and creamy, and absolutely delicious, warming me to my very bones. “I would train with my older brother, or the older boys in the tombs,” I explain. “Part of being in this cult was believing that the spirit of the dead kings would protect us, but we in turn had to protect their bodies and their burial chambers, so we were trained rigorously from the minute we were old enough to wield anything bigger than a potato peeler. I had to take a break for around a month when I turned ten years old, but apart from that, I trained with knife and sword every evening after we had said our prayers and eaten our last meal of the day.”

“Can you use any other weapons?”

“No, that’s it.”

“How did you learn all this? Just by sparring?”

“Sometimes my father would organise training exercises, where people would pretend to be intruders or shadow demons, and we would have to track them down and kill them. Our weapons would be blunted for this, but the principle was the same. We learned to sneak and anticipate as well as fight.”

Bakura is silent, processing what I’ve told him. Then he gives a small grunt and reclines on his elbows against the counter. “I think I can work with you,” he says after another pause. “Can’t imagine you’re much use to us right now, but going off what you’ve told me, I can see some potential.”

I’d be flattered if I knew how to be, I’m sure. I just shrug and take another sip of tea. “What weapons do _you_ use?” I ask him. “I didn’t see anything on you yesterday.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Bakura winks, setting his mug aside.

“I would.”

“Alright.”

Bakura flicks his wrist, and a wicked-looking dagger slides out of his sleeve and into his palm. At the same time, his other hand reaches down the back of his shirt and draws a slim-bladed sword with a criss-cross wrapped handle. All of this is done so rapidly I barely have time to react before he’s holding the tip of the sword to my throat. “Don’t go assuming that’s all I have,” Bakura smirks. “There’s plenty more where those came from.”

“Impressive,” I murmur. I know I should be frightened, but there’s nothing within me to be frightened with anymore. “Your style lies in deception.”

“More or less.”

“That sword, what is it?”

“A _ninjato._ It was my father’s.” With a dark laugh, he puts his weapons away. “To answer your question, I predominantly use knives, and the _ninjato_ isn’t much more than an oversized knife, really, but it serves the purpose of a sword. I have shuriken and kunai for distractions.”

“All very Nihon-derived for someone that comes from Ezo.”

“My father was from Nihon, and he taught me most of what I know,” Bakura shrugged. “He was a good teacher. I’m a bit of a mish-mash of technique, but you take what you can get to survive these days.”

“Mm. So I saw with Ryou’s magic.”

“Brilliant, isn’t it? My kid brother’s not to be underestimated. He’s no fluffy bunny, and that goes for my sister too.” Bakura snatches his mug back up again and drains what’s left in one gulp. “Right, finish your tea and come round the back of the building. I’ll put you to the test soon, so you’d better hope for your sake that you know your way around a blade as well as you say you do.” He tosses his mug into the sink and strides past me, his boots clicking on the worn wooden floor.

I remain, sipping tea quietly. I can’t read Bakura at all. His mood seems to swing as rapidly as the needle of the broken compass I used to covet as a child. I found it the one time I dared to venture near the surface, and was fascinated by the needle spinning every time I turned the compass in my hands. It was my favourite toy until I learned how to wield a blade.

Well, let’s hope Bakura stays in a pleasant enough mood to not run me through with his _ninjato_ …or whatever other weapons he had concealed under his clothes. I finish my drink and set the mug in the sink beside Bakura’s, and follow him through the house and outside.

* * *

As I step outside onto the porch, a bracing wind rips through my clothes, making me shiver. Cold is no problem for me, but I’m used to the air itself being cold, rather than it whipping around me and tangling my hair. I creep tentatively forward, keeping an eye out for anything that looks like it might try to kill me. I was lucky not to encounter anything during my blind venture outside, but I won’t be so fortunate in future.

The town of Amarna sprawls before me, a ramshackle throw-together of old buildings and crumbling huts. For a place that used to be so prosperous, it sure looks like it’s on its last legs these days. Home will be home to these people, though, however it looks. Given the hour, the streets are deserted.

I find Bakura warming up round the back of the tavern. His hair has been braided and twisted into a coiled rope at the base of his neck, and he’s shirtless, exposing the countless scabbards and holsters strapped to his scarred chest and stomach. Curious, I lean against a side wall and watch him.

His _ninjato_ is in one hand, and with the other, he runs it up the length of the blade. Then he spins to the left and drops down, bringing the _ninjato_ in a sweeping arc around himself before pushing himself upright with his free hand and tossing the blade into the air. It makes two full, graceful turns in the time it takes for him to sidestep, deliver what would have been a powerful blow with the heel of his hand, and catch the handle of the _ninjato_ as it descends, spinning again with it in hand and no doubt taking the head off his imaginary opponent.

He’s very talented. I can see why he’s so well respected here. His discipline and swordsmanship is finely honed and graceful, if a little unusual with the combination of martial arts, but he seems to make it work. After a few minutes, he sees me watching and smirks. “Are you going to stand there and ogle me all day, kid? I’ve time to spare, but I’d rather put that time to good use.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I trust you’re not going to pull all those knives on me?”

“It would certainly add to the fun, wouldn’t it? But no. I just want to see how you do, one weapon to one weapon.” Bakura slides the _ninjato_ into the leather scabbard on his back and pushes some of his fringe out of his face. “We’ll start with some dagger-play. This should be fun. Here, catch.”

He slides a dagger out of one of his many scabbards and tosses it to me at lightning speed. I catch it, but only barely, sucking in a breath in surprise. Bakura laughs, drawing his own dagger. I inspect mine with an inquisitive eye. The blade is around 12 inches long, the rough leather handle scarred and well-worn from use, the hilt reminiscent of the cross guard on a sword. “You like this one,” I comment, testing its weight.

“That obvious, is it?” Bakura grins. He slides out an identical dagger and taps his fingers along the flat end of the blade. “I like its twin better though.”

Without warning, he lunges at me. I parry instinctively, raising the arm holding the dagger to catch against the back of his hand and flicking the blade away from its trajectory towards my face. Our wrists lock around each other, the points of our daggers a hair’s breadth away from piercing the soft flesh of our inner arms. Bakura raises his eyes to mine, still grinning madly, and swings his free hand up to slam the heel into my sternum, knocking me backwards and loosening my grip on the dagger in my surprise. He’s incredibly reckless with his movements. That little stunt could have given him a serious injury if my dagger had slipped downwards, but he’s laughing at me as he spins away, already looking like he’s having the time of his life.

I make to dash forward to strike, but the extra pressure on my leg makes me wince and pull back, grimacing. “Don’t leave yourself open!” Bakura yells, slashing at me. I sidestep into an about turn, and swing my dagger in an arc towards his stomach, which he parries with a quick flick of his wrist.

We dance around each other in a flurry of slashes, parries and deadly strikes. Not one blow connects, but if either of us were any less alert, we’d probably both have bled out long ago. It seems to go on forever. Soon I forget the pain in my thigh and throw myself into the fight with renewed energy.

It’s been so long…so long since I’ve felt anything tangible. My emotions were killed along with my childhood on the day of my initiation, but something is coming back to me now…the feeling of being _alive._ I’m enjoying this! This is wonderful. I’m not out of practice at all.

We come in close again, and this time Bakura grabs my arm as he stabs forwards, making to pull me into the path of his blade. I knock his hand away with the flat of my own blade.

“Alright, that’s enough for now,” Bakura says, stepping back and sitting on a nearby barrel. Both of us are panting now; my fringe sticks to my forehead and a sheen of sweat glistens on Bakura’s bare torso. “You’re good,” Bakura admits, lowering his dagger. “Been a long time since I’ve had that much of a challenge. For a tomb rat, you’ve got skill.”

“Do I pass?” I ask, wiping my brow.

“Hmmm…” Bakura rubs his chin thoughtfully. “As far as weapons go, you’re pretty set. But if you really want to be a mercenary, you have to know how to look after yourself outside of the battlefield. Can you tie a knot?”

“Several.”

Bakura tosses me a thick skein of rope from behind the barrel. “Show me.”

I quickly tie several forms of knot, my fingers deft and nimble from years of rigging traps in the tombs. Bakura has me light a fire next, which I struggle with somewhat as I’ve never had to do it before. The women in the cult always did this, but I think…I think I have the hang of it.

When I finally manage to spark the dry tinder into warm, crackling flames, Bakura draws back, a frown creasing his brow. “Did I do it wrong?” I ask.

“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Then – ”

“Look, forget it, okay! Put that damn thing out and I’ll try you out with a sword.”

“I thought we’d finished with weapons.”

“I changed my mind. One handed or two?”

“One.”

Bakura stomps away, back to the tavern. A few moments later he reappears with a slim, slightly curved blade in an elaborate scabbard. “How many weapons do you _own?”_ I ask incredulously.

“A lot,” Bakura replies curtly. “Mostly spoils of war. I took this _uchigatana_ from a samurai wannabe four years ago. Ryou used to practice with it before he figured out he was better with staves. Catch.” He tosses it over to me and I catch it carefully. “I’ll use my _ninjato_ against you, which is a lot shorter than your blade, but I want to see how you work with the size difference.”

I grip the _uchigatana_ determinedly as he draws his _ninjato._ Tossing it lightly from hand to hand, he watches me, his gaze never wavering. This time, I lunge first. A smirk twists the corner of Bakura’s mouth and he sidesteps me easily, turning and smacking across my back with the flat of his blade. I hiss and wince, pain exploding up my spine from the single blow. He gives me a moment to recover, but I’m exhausted from our earlier sparring and the _uchigatana’s_ weight feels oddly foreign in my hand. I can’t get used to it, and I keep fumbling as a result. Even with the longer length of my blade, I can hardly keep Bakura at bay. He might be more partial to knives, but he wields the _ninjato_ with elegant mastery.

A deep, unbidden rage begins to rise within me. Anger at my failure to overcome Bakura’s skill. I thought myself better than this. The hours I trained are being put to shame, and I look weak!

I…I can’t stand this.

I throw myself into a mad sequence of slashing, parrying, slashing, stabbing, sidestepping, but every movement is controlled by pure, unadulterated, white-hot frustration. He’s too good. I can’t match him. I was the best in that ridiculous cult that tried to brainwash me. Why – ?!  Why can’t I harness the skills I’ve learned? Why?!

I swear I will fucking kill this man if I just…if I just manage to…get my blade up to his throat and –

“Marik!”

What - ?

“Hey, calm down!”

He said my name. That’s the first time he said my name.

It only inflames me more. I can’t stand it.

It’s like…someone knows my mind better than I do –

No – wait!

I can’t –

No!

“Marik! Marik!”

I…I don’t know what’s…going on…

* * *

“Marik!”

A splash of cold water on my face makes me cry out and jerk upright. What happened? Why am I on the ground?

Amane kneels beside me, looking worried. Ryou stands behind her, his hands on her shoulders. Both are barefoot, and Amane is in a nightdress, Ryou in a dressing gown and pyjama pants. “Are you alright?” Amane asks me.

“We heard the shouting and came running,” Ryou interjects. “Tou won’t tell us what’s going on, but he says you passed out.”

Amane helps me carefully to my feet, and I dry my face with the hem of my shirt. I…passed out? Why? My mind feels fuzzy, like I’m forcing myself not to remember. “Marik, you’re shaking,” Amane murmurs. My feelings are just as blank as ever, but true to her word, my muscles won’t stop spasming uncomfortably. “Come inside. You haven’t eaten since you got here…maybe some food will help you.”

“Oh, that…that sounds amazing, actually,” I say, suddenly realising how famished I am. Amane smiles up at me and takes my arm, leading me back to the tavern with Ryou close behind.

It’s still very early, but Bakura and I were sparring long enough for the sun to have come up fully now. He’s nowhere to be seen, though. In the kitchen, Ryou boils water for tea, while Amane slices bread and cheese. “We’re a little low on food at the moment,” she explains, “since the last couriers were attacked by the monsters. The next caravans should be coming through soon, though.”

She passes me a plate of sandwiches, filled with cheese and a peculiar pink substance. “What’s this?” I ask, lifting up one of the bread slices.

“You’ve never seen ham before?” Ryou laughs, stirring the mugs of tea he’s preparing.

“Is it…meat?”

“Mm. Do you eat meat?”

“Yes, but only ever dried. We couldn’t keep fresh meat in the tombs, so it was all cured and salted.”

“You’re in for a treat with this then,” Amane smiles. “Try it.”

Tentatively, I lift a sandwich to my mouth. The first mouthful sticks in my throat, but the second is better, the third is wonderful, and soon I’ve demolished the plateful.

Amane and Ryou sit down with me, and Ryou slides a mug over. “Will you tell us what happened?” he asks me. “Tou just took off afterwards and I don’t know where he is. I think he got a little freaked out.”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “We were sparring, and it was all going really well, but then…I don’t know, I just…started to get really angry when I had difficulty with the sword he gave me. That isn’t like me at all, because I…I don’t have emotions, not really.”

Ryou quirks an eyebrow at me. “You don’t have emotions?”

“Well, I can like and dislike things, but for the most part, I can’t get angry or upset. I can’t cry, and I can’t remember the last time I was happy, or knew I loved someone.”

Amane holds a hand over her mouth. “That’s so awful. To live like that…was it from your time in the tombs?”

“They weren’t all like me. I’m the exception. My initiation drove any feelings I had straight out of me.”

“Initiation?” Ryou is frowning now.

“You saw the scars on my back when you undressed me, I presume?”

“I did, yeah.”

“That was my initiation. But I…don’t really want to talk about it, not yet.”

Ryou nods, a mutual understanding between us. He doesn’t want to talk about the night he lost his parents, and I don’t want to talk about my scars. He reaches out and squeezes my hand, a sad smile on his face. “Seems like you’ve been through a lot,” he says quietly.

“That’s true.”

“Marik…stay here with us. Whether Tou takes you on or not, you’re welcome here. There’s a lot you have to learn about the world, and Amane and I, we’d be more than happy to have you here. I meant it when I said it was nice to have someone my age around. If you want to go onto the next town, or anywhere else, I won’t stop you, but I’d just feel a lot better if you were here while you at least got your bearings.”

Amane nods enthusiastically. “Yes, please do stay, Marik.”

I met these two barely a day ago, and already they feel like the brother and sister that I lost to the plague. Through staying with them, could I relearn the emotions I lost? I don’t want to be an empty shell anymore. That life is behind me now. This life is the one that I want. Companionship, adventure, laughing, smiling, joking…maybe even loving, if I was lucky enough. But I don’t think my emotions will be easy to reclaim. Sighing at the thought, I lower my head and take a gulp of tea.

Bakura storms into the kitchen at that moment, yanking a chair from the table and sitting down heavily. “Everything alright, Tou?” Ryou asks him. “Where did you run off to?”

“Just down the road,” he mutters, folding his arms across his chest. _“This_ crazy fucker – ” he looks directly at me as he says it, “went completely out of control on me. You could have fucking killed me, kid! What the hell happened back there?!”

“I don’t know,” I murmur into my mug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. That’s never happened before…not to my knowledge, anyway.”

I should feel shame. But my words are empty, and I feel nothing. I hate it.

Bakura glowers at me through his mass of hair. “You’ve impressed me enough that I’m going to take you on and train you myself, but this _will not happen again,_ do you hear me? Control than anger of yours or I’ll be putting you out on your ass faster than you can say “Kuriboh.””

“I understand, Bakura.”

“I’ve no more jobs to go on right now, but here’s what we’re going to do. Later, you’re coming out with me and patrolling town. I’ll show you the kind of foul demon spawn roam these places and how to kill them. We’ll spar again in the evening, and this time I expect you to keep your head level. You got that?”  
“Got it.”

Bakura looks over at Ryou and points a finger upwards, towards the ceiling. “Is he staying here?”

“Yeah,” Ryou nods. “He’s got the room next to yours.”

“You snore?” Bakura asks me.

“No,” I laugh.

For the first time since meeting him, a smile flickers to life on Bakura’s face, a true smile, not the little smirks he’s usually flashing someone’s way. “Then welcome to the family, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So I did some research and found that there's some debate as to whether the _ninjato_ actually ever existed or not. However, it serves its purpose here, as I felt the closest thing to it, the _tanto,_ was too short to be used the way I wanted it to, and I wanted Bakura to have a straight edged Japanese sword, hence the _ninjato._**


	4. Chapter 4

Days become weeks, and I am settling in comfortably with the Bakura family and their tavern-camping army in Amarna. Routine is something I was used to in the tombs, and there’s a lot to do here. I fall into place quickly; I wake up, help Amane feed the chickens they keep on a small patch of farmland, eat breakfast with the white-haired trio, then it’s cleaning the tavern with Ryou until Bakura calls me outside for training. Afterwards, we’ll patrol town for monsters, pick up any supplies we can get hold of, then come back in the evening for food, train some more, and take the rest of the night off to socialise with the tavern patrons and, in Bakura’s case, drink, a _lot._ He’s like a juggernaut with the amount of alcohol he can hold down.

I’m yet to go out on any actual hunts or jobs with Bakura. He doesn’t trust me enough at the moment, and he still doesn’t seem to have gotten over my burst of anger when he first sparred with me. It hasn’t happened again since, but I get the feeling he’s been trying to drive it out of me in our brutal training regimen as an excuse to deem me unstable and be rid of me. He’s cordial enough with me, but a lot colder than I thought he would be after us getting to know each other a little better.

In fact, no, that’s a lie. I don’t know the first thing about him, and he doesn’t ask about me either. Our conversations usually involve clashing blades and that’s about the most I get out of him.

Still though, I like him. I can see the suffering he’s endured throughout his life, and I’ll willingly accept his icy composure if it means I get to experience a brighter future outside of the tombs, but it does make me wonder if he will ever see eye to eye with me.

“Give it some more time, Marik,” Ryou smiles at me when I tell him of my concerns. I’m worn out after a particularly exhausting day of training, sat at the bar and sipping from a glass of water. Ryou is cleaning glasses behind the counter with his ever-cheerful expression. All around us, the usual shouts and laughter reverberate from the drunken patrons. “Tou doesn’t trust very easily,” Ryou continues, “but I think he likes you. He just has a hard time showing it.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. He’s working you a lot harder than he has done with anybody else in the past. He sees a lot of fight in you, and so do I. Whenever I watch you guys spar, it’s like a thing of beauty. You match up so well.”

“I guess that’s a compliment.”

“It is, but don’t tell Tou I said all that about him, or he’ll put cat guts in my bed or something,” Ryou laughs. His deep brown gaze flicks over to the corner, where Bakura sits, laughing and drinking with a few mercenaries I know he works with on occasion. The brown-haired boy to his left, who must only be around sixteen or seventeen, leans in to whisper in his ear. Bakura eyes him with a smirk, a thumb pressed to his mouth, then he nods and murmurs a quiet word to the rest of the gang before sliding out of his seat and following the boy outside.

“Who’s that?” I ask Ryou.

“Yuji Kondo,” Ryou replies, setting down a clean glass and picking up another to clean. “Relatively new around here. Amazing marksman; I’ve seen him hit the tiniest of targets from a ridiculous distance away. Tou’s taken quite a liking to him, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

“They, ah…they sleep together sometimes, but I don’t think they’re actually an official thing.”

I frown at Ryou, confused. “Sleep together?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I still forget your sheltered upbringing sometimes. You know how a man and woman make a baby, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they do that. But it’s a man and a man.”

“I didn’t know that was even possible.”

“Mm. It’s quite possible.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It can do, I guess, till you get used to it. I wouldn’t go asking Tou, though. He’d get embarrassed.” Ryou grins at me and hops over the counter to sit beside me. “I hope you don’t think it inappropriate of me to be telling you all this, by the way.”

“Not at all. It’s all a part of learning about this world. There were married couples in the cult, but always a man and woman, and there were a lot of children between them all.”

Ryou wrinkles his nose. “It’s disgusting that children were being raised underground their whole lives. That’s no way to exist.”

“Well, they’re all dead now. I guess they’re free.”

“A macabre way of looking at it, but I suppose you’re right.”

We sit quietly for a time, Ryou getting up on occasion to serve drinks. Amane flits between the tables, collecting up glasses and sometimes stopping for a chat with somebody. I find I like the constant noise in here. It’s so different from the stifling, suffocating silence of the tombs. Nothing ever happened there, but here, it’s always a flurry of activity.

“Hey, Ryou?” I ask.

“Yeah?”

“Are Bakura and Yuji in love? Does it not affect them going out on their jobs, wondering if the other might never make it home?”

Ryou laughs softly. “No, they’re not serious enough to worry about each other like that. Yuji’s a lovely guy, and super cute, but he knows his limits, and Tou doesn’t let himself get attached to anybody.” He starts picking at the counter with a fingernail, scraping off a speck of dust. “I’d love for him to settle down with someone though. He doesn’t make life any easier on himself, being as lonely as he is. But this is all he knows, and I’m not going to try and change him.”

“Do you have anybody in your life like he does?”

“No. I haven’t met the right guy yet,” Ryou smirks. “Besides, they all get a bit intimidated by the fact I can just snap my fingers and harness the elements. Quite the mood-killer in the bedroom, and it’s happened by accident at least once. I flooded my bedroom last time. Tou still likes to laugh about it to this day.”

“You prefer men, too?” I’m trying not to imagine Ryou drowning during a fit of passion, but the idea is quite hilarious.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I take it you never really thought about anything like this in the tombs? You weren’t expected to marry or anything?”

“Not for another two years. We married at twenty.”

“Lucky escape.”

“I’ll say.”

Every so often, a flicker of emotion comes back to me, and at the moment, what I would say I’m feeling is amused. Ryou is so mild-mannered and polite, but occasionally he comes out with things that have his siblings rolling on the floor with laughter, and right now, with his sexual suggestions, it almost makes me want to giggle at his words. We have become fast friends, and while I don’t know if I feel anything towards him yet, I do know that I’m grateful he found me and saved my life.

“I think I’ll head up to bed now,” I tell Ryou, yawning. “I’m going to be nursing some serious bruises in the morning.”

“Alright,” he smiles. “Sleep well, Marik.”

I drag myself off upstairs to clean my teeth and shower, sore and ready to drop face-down into bed. As always, the darkness in my room is disturbing, but as soon as the lamp comes on, the familiar relief washes over me.

I pull off my towel and inspect my body in the mirror, frowning as I twist round to see the extent of the bruising covering me. My thigh has healed well, leaving just a pale scar, but in exchange, Bakura has made sure to give me a multitude of black and purple marks all over my legs, arms and anywhere else he can hit me during our training. I can forget those, though, because I do quite like what I see now. I was scrawny and wiry upon my escape from the tombs, but after weeks of punishing training with Bakura (and sometimes Ryou, who has contributed to a few of these bruises with his staff), I’m beginning to fill out and build muscle. I look lean, but in a good way.

Another yawn escapes me, and I turn away from the mirror. Not bothering to redress, I clamber into bed and close my eyes, hoping for at least a few hours of peaceful sleep, but I know my nightmares better than that.

My last thoughts are of Bakura before sleep eventually overtakes me.

* * *

 “We’ve got a job,” Bakura tells me over breakfast the next morning.

I take a moment to swallow my mouthful of porridge. “Oh? We?”

“Yeah, and we leave today. Figured it was about time you came out with me. I want to see if you can hold your nerve out there. Think of it as a trial run.”

Amane squeals, clapping her hands together. “Oh, Tou! I’m so excited! Finally, Marik gets to show you what he’s made of!”

“Don’t get too excited,” Bakura growls. “If he gets himself killed out there, I won’t be dragging his body back for you to weep over.”

“Charming,” I grin. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it.

“You’re normally more cheerful after a night with Yuji,” Ryou comments, sipping tea as always. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Bakura replies. “Kid’s just annoying and immature. He wanted to make things serious, but I told him to get fucked. Like I need that hassle in my life.”

Ryou sighs theatrically. “Brother, would it kill you to be nice to someone that likes you?”

“I’m plenty nice to him.”

“Letting him have sex with you is _not_ being nice.”

“It’s as good as he’s going to get. I don’t fucking fall in love with teenagers – and anyway, where the fuck did you get the idea that I’m the bottom in this?!”

“Touzo, you’re _always_ the bottom with every guy you sleep with.”

“Fuck you.” Bakura shoves the remainder of his toast into his mouth and storms off, knocking his chair over.

Ryou puts the chair back, laughing heartily. “God, it’s fun to tease him.”

“Ryou, Marik doesn’t need to hear all that,” Amane scowls disapprovingly.

“I don’t mind,” I assure her.

“I do! I really don’t want to hear about my big brother’s sex life, thank you very much.”

“He makes you hear about it every time he brings Yuji upstairs.”

“Ryou! You pig!”

Ryou bursts out laughing again, ruffling his sister’s hair. “Marik, you should go after him. He probably wants to head off on this job soon.”

I nod, swallowing the last of my tea and hurrying off after Bakura. I find him sat on the porch outside, looking grumpy. A cigarette dangles loosely from his fingers and he stares out at the sprawling town with half-lidded eyes. “Are you alright?” I ask him quietly.

“Yeah,” Bakura replies, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I know Ryou’s right, but I won’t do it. I can’t. Not with him, anyway.”

“Yuji?”

“Mm.”

“You don’t want to love?”

“Why would I? I’ve all the love I need from my brother and sister. They mean the world to me, they’re all I have left. Some scrappy little kid doesn’t factor into that. Anyway, why the fuck are you so curious? It’s none of your damn business, alright?!”

He’s so lonely, I can see that now. But he doesn’t help himself, like Ryou says. I just shrug and sit beside him, giving him a little space. I’m used to his harsh treatment by now, just letting it wash over me like always.

Bakura is silent for a while, finishing his cigarette and lighting another. He’s stressed out. He always smokes more when he’s stressed. Halfway down the cigarette, he speaks again. “The job I’ve accepted is in Minya. It’s about 36 miles north of here. Not much to see there, but that’s pretty much true of anywhere in this damn dark wasteland.”

“How do we get there?” I ask.

“My horse should be able to carry the both of us. If we go now, we can be there by sundown, if we don’t get bothered by demons popping up out of the damn ground every five minutes.” He flicks the cigarette butt away and leans back on his elbows, scanning the landscape. “A fire demon has been terrorising the town and killing the local children. They call it “Abaki.” All we have to do is bring it down, and bring back some proof. Should be easy enough, and it pays well.”

“Sounds good.”

Bakura makes an agreeing grunt. “Go and pack. Don’t take much though, we’ll only be gone a few days. Get Ryou to help you if you’re not sure.”

It turns out Ryou has already started packing for me, as I find out when I go upstairs to my room. “Just thought I’d help you out,” he smiles as he folds the few items of clothing I own together. “Amane’s sorting out some food for the both of you. Are you looking forward to your first proper job?”

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully, starting to help him with the packing. “I still don’t really feel much.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I bet it will all come back to you once you get a little more settled in, though.”

“I hope so. Being with you guys has been amazing, and I want to be able to express that properly.”

“Don’t worry, Marik. We know you like it here, you’re always smiling at something.” Ryou passes me the wrapped bundle of clothing. “Here you go. There’s a bag downstairs that you can put all this in. It’s mine, but I only ever use it when I go on jobs with Tou, so it’s well-travelled! I want you to take it with you today.”

“Thank you, Ryou.”

He smiles his usual bright smile at me. “Don’t mention it.”

“No, really. You’ve done so much for me.” I hang my head, an odd sensation in my chest. “You saved my life. You took me into your home, fed me, clothed me, accepted me like I was family. You and Amane have been so kind, and I don’t know how I can ever repay you for that.”

Ryou, still smiling, takes the bundle of clothes from me and sets it on the bed. Then he reaches out and wraps his arms around me in an affectionate embrace. I freeze, not knowing what to do, but his soft warmth is strangely comforting, and I find myself returning the gesture. “Repay me by coming back from this alive,” he whispers. “You don’t owe us anything, Marik. You needed help and we gave it to you. Any reasonable person would have done the same.”

“Bakura wouldn’t.”

“He isn’t reasonable. But he is your friend, just the same as Amane and I are.” Ryou draws back and give my cheek a little pinch. “And you _are_ family. Don’t you forget that.”

“Ryou…”

“Hey, you’d best get back downstairs. Tou’s impatient enough as it is when he goes out on his own.”

The feeling in my chest only increases with his words. I realise, as I make my way downstairs, that I’m loath to leave this place. Never in my life have I felt more secure than I have in this tavern, even with the danger of monsters and demons around every corner. It’s safe here. I never felt safe in the tombs. But the Bakura trio, and their gang of mercenaries, they don’t let a thing past them.

Bakura is waiting with Amane by the crudely-erected stable round the side of the tavern, Amane petting the nose of a proud-looking, pure white horse, if a horse could even look proud. Bakura kneels beside her, fussing with the horse’s hooves. “Took you long enough,” he snaps, looking up and spotting me. “Come on, we don’t have all day. I want to get there before it gets dark.”

Amane pulls away from the horse to throw her arms around me, squeezing tight. “You’re going to be amazing,” she whispers in my ear. “Tell me everything when you get back, alright?”

“I will,” I smile, patting her head.

She draws back, her eyes slightly tearful. “I’m so proud of you,” she says, her voice quavering. “When Ryou found you, I was so scared you would die, but look at you now. I’m happy, so, so happy, that he saved you. You’re like my third big brother.”

“Oh god, Amane, cut it out,” Bakura groans, putting the horse’s hoof down. “You know he won’t feel anything from your soppy-ass words.”

But I do. That feeling in my chest gives a dull throb and I find myself pulling her back into my arms, tears of my own pricking my eyes. I haven’t cried for nearly ten years, and now I’m crying as I prepare to say goodbye to the sweet girl who has treated me with nothing but unconditional love since I came to stay with them. We’ll only be away a few days, but I know I’ll miss her terribly. “Thank you for everything you’ve done,” I murmur into her fluffy hair.

“Don’t mention it,” she giggles, echoing Ryou. I let go of her and wipe my eyes, smiling. She turns to Bakura and hugs him too. “Don’t be reckless, Touzo. Get rid of that demon and come straight back here, alright?”

“Don’t you worry about me, sis,” Bakura grins, stooping down to kiss her brow. “You know I always come back in one piece. I’ll even bring you back a souvenir, how about that?”

“Aw, you’re sweet.”

“I fucking am not.”

“Whatever, big brother.”

“I love you too, pipsqueak.” Bakura shoves her back and ruffles her hair like always. “Right, come on then, kid. I’ll help you up onto Cleo.”

I guess Cleo is the horse. Bakura shows me how to put a foot in the stirrup of the saddle, then puts his hands around my waist and pushes me up. Cleo gives a little shake of her head at my weight settling on top of her, but she otherwise doesn’t react. I should probably be nervous, having never been near a horse before, but I’ve read about them, and I know that they usually like gentle petting along the nose like Amane was doing, so I slide forwards and gently run my hand between her eyes and downwards.

Cleo whinnies softly, and Bakura watches us with his usual smirk. “She likes you,” he says. “She’s placid as hell anyway, but she definitely likes you.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” I murmur.

Ryou pops up at that point, handing over another bag to Bakura. “Stay safe, Tou,” he says, slapping him a high-five. Their hands link together and they squeeze, then Bakura pulls Ryou in for a hug. “See you in a few days,” Ryou says softly into Bakura’s hair.

“Keep this place safe, alright, Ryou?”

“Always.” He pulls back from Bakura and glances up at me, waving. “You stay safe too, Marik! You’re going to be awesome out there.”

“Thanks,” I grin. “See you again soon.”

Bakura swings himself up onto Cleo, sitting in front of me and grabbing the reins. “Off we go then, kid. You’ll want to hold onto my waist or something. Cleo runs pretty damn fast!” He snaps the reins, and Cleo immediately breaks into a fast trot; I yelp in surprise and grab Bakura’s waist, pulling myself in close to him.

Ryou and Amane stand together and wave as we leave for my first shot at being a mercenary in darkness-sodden Kemet.


	5. Chapter 5

Bakura’s hair tickles my nose as we ride through the desolate wasteland. It’s tied back in a tight braid, but stray strands still whip around his head with every thunder of Cleo’s hooves. I have to turn my head to the side and rest it against his shoulder blade to stop from sneezing every few minutes.

“Comfortable back there, kid?” Bakura asks.

“Not really,” I admit. “How much further?”

“Another few hours. Do you want to switch over?”

“We can do that?”

“Sure thing. Cleo’s well-behaved, she’ll work with you.” Bakura gives a hard tug on the reins and Cleo pulls to a rapid stop, tossing her head. “If you’re going to work with me, you’ll have to get used to leading her anyway.”

He hops down from Cleo and then gives me a little push forwards before swinging up behind me. “Take the reins like this,” he murmurs, sliding his hands round my sides to show me how to hold the leather strips. As he instructs me of the various commands I can use to guide Cleo, I feel the familiar stiffness in my back begin to creep up on me. I’ve been sat stock-still, save for Cleo’s up-down movements, for hours now, and I know I won’t be able to go much longer without being in agonising pain. But this is my first proper job, and I want it to go well, so I’m not going to say anything to Bakura unless absolutely necessary.

Soon Cleo is responding perfectly to every touch and call. Bakura keeps his hands on the reins to help me along, his warmth pressed up close and somewhat easing the soreness in my back.

We don’t speak. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, like the deathly quiet of the tombs. It’s…mutual. We’re both alright with it. I’ve nothing I want to ask Bakura, and he seems content with the quiet too, just occasionally shifting in the saddle or guiding my hands on the reins. When he deems me competent enough to handle Cleo on my own, he draws back, wrapping his arms round my waist instead to keep himself steady.

How Bakura knows where to go, I have no idea. The weather-beaten trail is virtually non-existent now, and there are no landmarks anywhere, but he directs me where to lead Cleo with soft words as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Suddenly, he stiffens and jerks his head up. His eyesight must be keener than mine, because I can’t see what he’s spotted. “Demon up ahead,” he mutters, letting go of me to draw his _ninjato_ from beneath his shirt. “Don’t veer off, kid. Keep going straight and let me handle this.”

“Alright,” I nod, gripping the reins firmer. As Cleo continues to canter, I eventually spot the demon; a hulking, skeletal-looking humanoid that gives off the occasional spark of lightning. It hasn’t seen us yet, but it will do in a matter of seconds.

Then Bakura catches it between the eye sockets with a shuriken. It roars and staggers backwards, ripping the spiked metal out of the cracked bone. He leaps off Cleo as we come within several feet of the demon, bringing his _ninjato_ round to stab it through its chest. He can’t pull the blade out quick enough, so he jumps back and flicks his wrists, a dagger sliding down from his sleeves into each hand. A sardonic smirk twists his lips. “Come at me, fuckface,” he laughs.

The demon growls and charges at him.

He’s not going to be able to take this one down in time. I can’t keep Cleo going without him. She races past and I put a distance between us and the demon before tugging on the reins to stop her. “Stay, Cleo, okay?” I tell her firmly as I jump off, my back protesting at the sudden movement. “Stay.” I pat her nose a few times and draw the _uchigatana_ that I first practiced with. I’m much better with it now, and it feels like an extension of my own arm rather than a heavy burden.

I have to help him!

“Stay back, kid!” Bakura shouts as I run towards him. The demon swipes at his head and he ducks, sending one of his daggers into its calf.

“You can’t do this on your own!” I argue.

“You don’t get to decide that!” he spits back at me.

“Bakura, look out!”

Bakura looks up a second too late. The demon grabs his long braid and jerks him upright. Then Bakura screams, a surge of crackling electricity flowing through his body. I can’t help but yell out in shock. It’s going to kill him!

My body seems to move on its own. The _uchigatana_ slices upwards, taking the demon’s arm with it. As it roars in pain, Bakura drops to the ground, panting, limbs twitching. The demon veers around to face me. Its sunken visage is twisted in fury. I stand my ground, raising my blade. “You don’t scare me,” I whisper.

Its growl is deep and intimidating, but it passes over me like wind over water. It’s distracted from me lopping off its arm, distracted enough that its blind anger allows me to slip through its wild charge and plunge the _uchigatana_ between its shoulders. It topples to the ground as if its very bones have given out, and I plant a foot on its back, jamming my blade in as deep as it can go. The demon gives a final twitch and then lays still before dissolving into whispering mist.

“Phew…that was intense,” I murmur, sheathing my blade. Bakura gives a groan, and I drop to my knees to help him. “Bakura. Kura! Are you okay?”

Slowly, he pushes himself into a sitting position, wiping sweat from his brow. He glowers at me with pure venom in his eyes. “Why the _fuck_ did you go and do that?” he hisses. “I had the situation perfectly under control!”

“No, you didn’t. Your _ninjato_ got stuck and the demon almost electrocuted you to death. That is not under control.” I sigh and pick up Bakura’s _ninjato_ from the ground, where it fell after the demon dissolved. “You’d better take this back.”

He takes it from me and slides it back into its scabbard, then tries to stand, but his legs buckle, and I have to catch him, wincing at the sudden pull on my sore back. “Fuck, I can’t do a thing like this,” he gasps.

“Do we need to set up camp now?” I ask.

“I’d rather not. We really need to get to Minya by sundown. But my legs are fucked right now from the electricity. I don’t think I can grip Cleo to even stay on, let alone direct us.”

We’re stuck here. There’s no way Bakura can continue until he gets some sensation back in his body. I touch his shoulder briefly, then get up to go over to Cleo, who seems remarkably unperturbed by the action that just went on in front of her. She must have seen many a battle. I tether her to a nearby tree and give her some water to drink, not sure if I’m doing it any of it right, but I know we won’t be moving anywhere anytime soon, and I don’t want her running away.

Bakura watches me silently the entire time, still simmering with thinly veiled anger. I tug his bag off Cleo’s side and begin setting up our tents. I haven’t had to do this out in the open yet, but Bakura has shown me a few times after training, and I soon have them erected. “Should we make a fire?” I ask.

Bakura shakes his head. “No fire.”

“Won’t you get cold?”

“It’ll draw more demons. No fucking fire. Help me over to my tent, will you?”

I move to his side and put his arm round my shoulders, supporting him as he limps over to his tent. “Are you in any pain?” I ask him.

“No, but my legs are still numb. If you reckon you’ve got the upper fucking hand here when it comes to keeping the situation in control, you can take first watch. I’m having a nap.” And with that, he disappears into his tent.

* * *

 Night soon falls. I guess we’re going to be here till morning, and it’s probably the best idea, given that Bakura needs some time to recover.

But the lack of fire is making me nervous. It’s pitch-black now and bitterly cold. Nerves are the only emotion I’m familiar with, but it doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with it by any means.

I can see now that Bakura doesn’t like fire. I was confused at first by the way he reacted after I lit my first fire, but the way he wanted to be out of the vicinity of this one set off alarm bells. Sure, it would help to not have demons swarming around us, but having nothing to keep us warm is impractical.

To hell with this. I’m cold, and if I stay in the dark much longer, I’m going to break down. He’s asleep. I’m building a fire.

My back screams in protest as I stumble to my feet, dagger in hand. Cleo gives a soft whinny when I approach her, and I pat her nose a few times while I dig in her saddlebags for any food she can eat. “Here you go,” I smile, offering her the mixture that I presume Amane made. Then I start hacking away at the tree’s loose branches. I know they’ll be damp inside, and there’ll be more smoulder than fire, but I’m getting a little desperate at this point. I drag an armful of branches back to our makeshift campsite and set them down in a heap, finding some loose stones and putting them around the wood in a ring. My tinderbox is in my back pocket, and I manage to light the branches fairly easily. I guess the tree was long-dead, because it all crackles to life within minutes. The ruddy glow soothes my nerves and floods my shivering body with warmth. Just to be on the safe side, I unsheathe my _uchigatana_ and set it across my lap, ready to fight if I have to.

I must admit, I was hoping that all this would have gone better. I didn’t expect Bakura to end up injured so soon after setting off, but this landscape really is a surprise after surprise.

I wonder if he’s okay. He’d better not have died in his sleep. That happened all too often in the tombs, even before the plague took them all.

I’ll check on him, just for curiosity’s sake.

Huh. Curiosity. That’s an emotion, right?

I swear, this family is changing me in so many ways. But I can’t complain. Being human is something I want.

Laying the _uchigatana_ aside, I crawl forwards and carefully push the opening flap of Bakura’s tent aside. He would look a lot more relaxed if it weren’t for the dagger in his hand, but otherwise, he appears peaceful, and I can see he’s breathing evenly. He’s untied his braid, and his hair fans out in a silvery halo around his head.

He looks…beautiful.

…

Holy crap. I did not just think that. I did _not_ just think that.

Oh, why am I denying it? Should I be ashamed? Bakura doesn’t seem to be embarrassed about his preference for men, and neither does Ryou. I haven’t ever really given it any thought, but now that I look back on it, I suppose I always have paid more attention to males than females. I never looked forward to the day I knew I would have to marry – not that I looked forward to anything much. I just wanted a normal life. I know I will never have a normal life, not in this world full of darkness and demons, a world where every day could be your last.

But I want to make the most of what I _can_ have.

“What the fuck are you staring at, kid?”

I nearly jump out of my skin, and cry out as my back flares up. I’d spent so long gazing at Bakura that my eyes went out of focus and I didn’t realise he’d woken up.

He pushes himself upright, scowling at a point over my shoulder. “You lit a fire, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I reply in a strained voice. “You don’t have to come near it. I just wanted to check you were alright.”

“I’m _fine,”_ he snaps. “Who says I don’t want to come near it?”

“I can tell you don’t like fire.”

Bakura just sighs. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I wasn’t going to ask. Your legs?”

Bakura gives them an experimental flex. “They feel okay now. What’s up with your back? It seems to bother you all the time, and it’s starting to piss me off.”

“Nothing’s up.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I can see you’re in pain. Did something attack while I was sleeping?”

“No. It’s my scars.”

“Scars?”

I’ve never shown Bakura. Ryou only saw them because he had undressed me, and that was unavoidable. But I don’t like people seeing them. They’re a part of me I wish I could take away.

Bakura narrows his eyes. “Show me.”

“I...really would rather not.”

“If I come out to your godforsaken fire, will you show me?”

“You won’t give this up, will you?”

“Nope.”

“…Fine.”

I guess I’ll have to show him sometime in the future. It might as well be now.

Bakura drags himself out of the tent, a little unsteady on his feet, and he eyes the fire with an unreadable expression, but he sits close enough to it that he’ll be able to see the ruin of my skin. I face away from him, pulling my thick woollen tunic off and unbuttoning the cotton undershirt.

As I slip it off, Bakura swears loudly. “Fuck! What the fuck! What is this?!”

My back is a scorched, tortured mass of hieratic and pictographs. I’ve tried so hard to block out the memory of that day, but I just can’t. It’s too raw, even after so many years. They serve as a grisly memento of the cause I was born into.

“I already told you that I was raised in a cult that revered a long-dead king,” I murmur. “Well, part of that reverence was swearing your undying loyalty in the form of an initiation when you turned ten years old. The girls didn’t have to do it, only the boys. My father was the head of this cult, and it would have brought much shame on him if I didn’t go through with it, but I had no say in the matter anyway.

“I was strapped to a stone block and a gag forced in my mouth. I could move my head, but that was all. I…seem to remember crying, and wanting my brother and sister to rescue me, and wondering why my father would put me through such torture. I’d heard the screams before. Some boys died from the pain. I was terrified that I would die too.”

Bakura sucks in a harsh breath. “How was this done?”

“A white-hot knife. I was branded, burned, sliced open.”

When I told Ryou so casually about the way I killed my father, it was like nothing out of the ordinary. But as I recall this horror to Bakura, I can hear my voice shaking.

“Fuck…” Bakura whispers. “I can’t even…I can’t even imagine…”

I don’t seem to be able to stop now I’ve started. “I remember barely even registering the first cut going in. But as the second one came, I screamed. It was the worst pain I have ever felt, like someone was ripping my very soul from inside me. There was no blood, because the knife was so hot that my back was cauterised instantly, but the pain, oh, fuck…the pain…and the smell of burning flesh…”

“Marik, you don’t have to talk about this – ”

“I threw up, I choked on it, and I had to force it all back down and pray that my stomach stayed calm, but it was hopeless. The agony forced me in and out of consciousness, until I began to feel a deep rage towards the man that should have been protecting me as his son.”

I’m shaking now, shivering violently despite the heat of the fire, and I barely notice that Bakura used my name.

“In the end I just stopped screaming, and passed out. When I came to, I remember my sister asking me how I felt, and I just felt…nothing. Nothing at all. And since then, I’ve continued to feel nothing. My emotions died the day my father stole my childhood.”

I want to cry. I want to just bury my face in my hand and sob, weep, wail, every tear a mere fraction of the agony I felt that day. But nothing comes. Nothing ever comes.

There’s a slight shifting sound from behind me and I tense up, hunching my shoulders defensively. But when Bakura presses a hand to my back, I somehow relax. Of course, typical Bakura, with no respect for personal space, wouldn’t have ever asked to touch them, but I find that I don’t mind it at all.

“They feel so deep,” he whispers, tracing a finger down a pillar of hieratic. “I can’t believe anyone could survive this.”

“I don’t know how I did.”

“You’re stronger than most men, Marik. I’m actually starting to respect you a little now I’ve seen this.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Sure, why not.”

His hands move across my back in broad, sweeping strokes now, exploring the ruined canvas more thoroughly. It feels…good. My head drops down and I sigh, closing my eyes. Nobody has ever touched me with such gentleness before. “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly.

Bakura’s hands pause. “I don’t really know.”

“…Please don’t stop.”

“Marik?”

“I…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t stop.” Bakura chuckles softly, moving a little closer. “I’m intrigued. It must feel like heaven to have someone look at this and not be disgusted by it, let alone touch it.”

“Mm.” The noise is part agreement, part pleasure. His hands are kneading my shoulders now, and little tingles are spreading from my scalp all the way down my body in response.

“I still think you’re a fucking idiot for getting involved earlier,” Bakura mutters.

“I know. Should I be sorry?”

“Not if you don’t know how to be.”

“You could have died.”

“…I guess I kind of fucked up a bit.”

“Yep.”

“And maybe I should cut my hair. I don’t fancy getting grabbed and electrocuted again.”

“That’s your call.”

“Hey, Marik?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, but…it’s good to know you’ve got my back.”

I look over my shoulder at Bakura and smile. “Of course I do. I’m your apprentice, right?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you are, but you’re good with a blade, and my siblings like you. That’s good enough for me.”

Bakura continues to rub my back until the pain subsides. His touch is wonderful…I truly don’t want him to stop. But he does after a time, and gives me a little push towards the tents. “Go on, get some sleep. I’ll stay out on watch.”

“Are you sure?” I redress, suddenly feeling very worn out and in need of rest.

“It’s that or sleep in the saddle. I can tell you from experience that you wake up with an itchy rash on your face and a sore ass. Trust me, you want the tent.”

“…Will you leave the fire burning?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you, Kura.”

“You don’t like the dark, do you?”

“No…”

“From the initiation?”

“I think so.”

Bakura exhales a heavy breath. “One of these days, I’ll tell you why I don’t like fire. Till then…I’ll suffer it, and you can feel safe with the light. But once we’re even, we’re working on these fears, you hear me?”

“I’ll try.”

“Me too. Now go and sleep.”

I didn’t expect any of this tonight. But as I clamber into my tent and tug the multitude of sheets around me, I feel a bright little bubble of emotion in my chest. Gratitude? Happiness? I don’t know what it is. But it feels good.


	6. Chapter 6

Morning comes around and we're back on the road. Bakura lets me take the reins again, but aside from a brief conversation over breakfast, we don't really speak. I get the feeling he's a little confused about what happened last night, and to be honest, I think I might be as well. My senses were completely assaulted by a complex mix of emotions I thought I'd never be privy to, and now I don't know what to do with them, or myself for that matter.

But there are more pressing things to deal with at this point, namely getting to Minya in a timely fashion. We have to run Cleo ragged, but we'll be sure to treat her with some extra care later on to make up for it.

We set off at dawn, and make it to the town not long after the sun is fully up. If Amarna is a thrown-together mess, Minya is like it just doesn't know where or what it is. It looks like a hurricane has hit it with the way its buildings are half-destroyed, windows boarded, debris in the streets. It's clear not many still live here. "People are loyal to wherever it is they call home," Bakura murmurs as he jumps off Cleo, knowing exactly what I'm thinking. "This place is a target area for demon attacks and bandits, but the townsfolk won't leave for anywhere safer. They're stupid, but what can you do? Home is home."

 _Your parents tried to find a safer place to raise their children, and look what happened to them,_ I think to myself.  _Maybe it makes more sense to these people to stay and die in familiarity._

Bakura hands Cleo over to me so I can take her to the nearby stable, while he wanders off to find the petitioner of the hunt. He seems to know his way, so I tether Cleo up and rub her down gently while she nibbles at hay, then I sit and wait for Bakura to return.

He pops his head round the stable door fifteen minutes later. "Come on, kid. We're going down to the local info hotspot."

The "info hotspot" turns out to be an outpost just on the border of town. Though it's early in the morning, there are several men milling about, breaking bread and swigging ale. Bakura stops a few yards away from them and leans against the nearest wall, waiting for them to finish their conversation.

One of the men looks up and grins broadly. "Well, if it isn't the Silver Wind of Amarna. Haven't seen you in a while, Bakura. Gotta say, I was glad when I saw you'd taken on this hunt for Abaki. Nobody else has been brave enough to go after it." His eyes linger on Bakura's slightly scorched hair, hanging loose around his face, and the split in his lip from when he was dropped by the lightning demon. "You're roughed up. Run into trouble on the road?"

"You're flattering me, Amar," Bakura smirks, folding his arms over his chest. "No, I'm fine, nothing I couldn't handle. Any updates on your demon situation?"

"Seems to be in its hidey-hole for now," the man called Amar says, scratching his head. "Haven't seen it in a few days, but its tracks are everywhere. The children are terrified, and none of them will leave their houses. Can't say I blame them, can you?"

Bakura makes a soft noise of agreement. "Tell us where we can find it."

"We?"

"Ah, yeah." Bakura indicates towards me, stood a few feet away from him, observing quietly. "This is Marik, my little protégé. Be nice to him, this is his first proper job."

"Hello," I smile, suddenly feeling a little shy. These emotions really are getting the better of me recently.

Amar nods at me, then turns back to Bakura, pointing over his shoulder. "You want to keep going that way, towards the old oasis. There's a cavern a few hundred feet from it, and the bastard's been hiding in there. If you take your horse, you should get to it within the hour. Abaki seems to be nocturnal, well, none of us have ever seen it during the day, anyway."

"Consider it good as dead," grins Bakura. "We'll be back in a few hours, then."

"I'll have your payment ready and waiting."

"I should hope so." He twitches a finger at me. "Come on, kid. Work calls."

This is exciting! I can't help the little spring in my step as I hurry after Bakura. The past few weeks he's spent training me on the demons that roam Amarna should hopefully be of use here. Plus, I helped take down the lightning demon last night. I know I'm ready to do this.

We reach the stable and Bakura unties Cleo. "I'll take the lead now," he tells me as he settles into the saddle. "Just keep an eye out for anything that wants to eat us."

"Will do," I reply, pulling myself up behind him. He snaps the reins and I grab onto his waist as Cleo breaks into a rapid canter, Bakura steering her out of the stable towards the oasis. A slight sense of urgency is evident in Bakura's stance now, and I can tell he just wants to get this over and done with so he can return home.

* * *

 Thankfully, we don't run into any more demons on the way to Abaki's lair, but as Amar said, evidence of its activities are all over the place, mostly in the grisly form of charred bones and blood spatters. The smell of smoke and death is heavy in the air here. It's almost enough to turn my stomach, but I force myself to breathe through it, pushing back the memories the smells are bringing to the fore of my mind. "Why did you accept a job to kill a fire demon?" I ask Bakura to distract myself.

"Work's work," he shrugs. "Family needs feeding. I've watched Ryou and Amane waste away before my eyes more times than I ever want to remember. Can't afford to be scared of a little fire when I'm sometimes the only one keeping them alive."

"How long have you been a mercenary?"

"Since I was sixteen, so we're going back…nearly ten years now. Fuck, that's gone by fast. How old are you, kid?"

"Eighteen."

"Ryou's age. No wonder he likes you so much. Whoa, Cleo!"

Cleo gives an anxious neigh, seemingly a little disturbed by the heavy smell of blood. "Easy now…" Bakura murmurs, gently tugging on the reins. "Okay, stop, there we go. Good girl."

Cleo comes to a stop in front of a jagged, gloomy-looking cut in a deep rock face. We hop down and Bakura scouts around for a suitable spot to tether her while I peer inside the cavern curiously. It seems to be lit from within by a soft glow, presumably coming from the demon resting inside.

"Careful, kid!" Bakura calls over, grinning at me. "Don't want it coming out and ripping off your pretty little head."

"It would have to consider me pretty first," I grin back.

"Fire demons might go for the purple-eyed look, who knows?"

"I suppose we'll find out!"

Bakura chuckles, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walks over, having finished tethering Cleo to a nearby outcrop of rock. "You're a lot more fun to be around when you're not acting like an emotionless statue."

I shrug in response. "You've put your hands on my back. You know why I'm the way I am."

We're making our way through the cavern now, treading carefully and keeping an eye out for any traps. It's doubtful this demon is smart enough to be able to lay traps, but you can never be too certain, and it pays to be cautious. Bakura keeps a hand on my arm as we walk, his eyes darting this way and that.

Soon the low rumble of demonic snoring reaches us. It's a sound that instantly makes you aware that this is a creature capable of snapping your bones and drinking your very soul. If I could be scared, I know I would be. Bakura's grip on my arm tightens slightly, testament to his fear of the flames he knows we'll be approaching, but with his free hand he holds a finger to his lips before gesturing forwards.  _Quietly,_ he's saying.  _If we can jump it while it's sleeping, our lives will be much easier._

Abaki slumbers in the deepest recesses of the cavern, curled up in a low alcove. To my surprise, it doesn't look much like a fire demon, more like a misshapen troll. Only its red colouration gives any indication as to its elemental affinity. It lies on its side, facing away from us. Dried blood and scraps of clothing litter the uneven ground, and a single desiccated limb tops off the gruesome tableau. I wonder how many children this demon has claimed the lives of. Even one is too many. Such filth shouldn't be able to freely walk this earth.

As we creep closer, the creature stirs. I freeze in place, but Bakura just scowls, drawing his  _ninjato_ warily. I feel for the dagger at my belt, wrapping my fingers around the hilt. Abaki gives a grunt and flops onto its back, its mouth hung open in a lopsided gurn, blue tongue lolling out. Now Bakura smirks, seeing his chance. Deftly switching from  _ninjato_ to dagger, he dives in. One quick thrust, twist, lift, and a fountain of blood sprays into the air as he severs the demon's optic nerve, plucking its eye straight out of the socket. Abaki roars, thrashing in its blind fury, and Bakura leaps back with a wild laugh, wiping blood from his face. Wordlessly, I rush in to help him. We have the upper hand with the element of surprise, and Abaki barely has time to react, but with a careless swing of its club, he forces us back after a few moments. It drags itself to its feet, hot, steaming blood coursing down its face from its empty eye socket. "You made it mad," I murmur to Bakura.

"Good," he replies, raising an eyebrow at me and flashing his usual twisted smirk. "All part of the fun."

Abaki charges, swinging its club. Bakura jumps out of the way a little quicker than I do, but I manage to slip in a quick stab with my dagger in the process. A hot flash sears up my arm and I drop the dagger, gasping. My fingers curl inwards instinctively, trying to squeeze out the pain. My dagger lies on the floor, glowing white-hot. "It…it burned me," I groan. "Bakura, you can't touch its body with metal-handled weapons."

"Your hand?" he asks, unable to come over, in the middle of nimbly avoiding Abaki's crushing club blows.

"Burned."

"Toss me your  _uchigatana."_

I fumble clumsily at my belt with my one good hand, drawing the slim blade and throwing it over. He catches it, slipping his dagger away and switching to a two-handed grip. My palm has begun to blister already, the pain throbbing dully through my fingers and all the way up towards my elbow. There's not much I can do now but step back and try to stay alive.

Bakura does enough work for both of us. His hair whips through the air like a shimmering curtain as he dodges and strikes, every movement a dance of brutal elegance. A somewhat sadistic look corrupts his face the entire time. He  _enjoys_ this. He enjoys being the one to inflict the pain on these foul demons. But who can blame him?

With one last violent slash, Abaki collapses to the ground. It shudders, then its body starts to melt away like molten magma. Bakura hops back, onto higher ground so his feet don't get burned, and I jump over the swirling pool to join him. "That was easier than I expected," he comments as he hands the  _uchigatana_ back to me. I inspect the blade carefully, checking for any hot spots, then slide it back into its scabbard safely. "Shame about its body melting away. We've nothing to take back as proof now. I guess I can just threaten Amar till he pays us."

A glint on the floor catches my eye, and I frown, pointing to it. "What about that?"

Bakura kneels down to scoop the spherical object off the floor. "Is this its fucking eye?"

"I think so. You cut it out, didn't you?"

"That I did. Gross, it's all slimy and sticky…but it'll do." Shrugging, he drops it into the pocket of his trench coat. "Let's go, kid."

* * *

 The ride back to Amarna is hard, fast, but uneventful. We got our payment from Amar, who seemed rather pleased with the eye Bakura brought back, but told him he could keep it if he liked. Bakura had laughed at that, saying he'd present it to Amane as a souvenir, like he promised. I'm hazarding a guess that she might freak out a little, Bakura will laugh, and Ryou will be fascinated and take it for himself to study.

"Is it just me, or does that eye feel warm?" I ask quietly. My arms are round Bakura's waist again as he rides, and I can feel the slight squishiness of the eye in his pocket against my arm.

"Can't say I've noticed," he replies curtly. "Quiet now, alright? Keep an eye on the road for me."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not." I can hear the amusement in Bakura's voice though. I know he isn't annoyed at me.

As the sun begins to shrink back and hide behind the horizon, we thunder into Amarna. The streets are busy as people finish up their work for the day, heading home, or to the tavern for an evening drink. A few children stare wide-eyed at Cleo as she trots past. She must be very eye-catching in his dull world, a sparkling star to some.

Bakura steers Cleo towards the stable and jumps off, heaving a sigh. "Thank fuck for that. Get yourself inside and I'll see to Cleo. Let Ryou and Amane know we're back."

"Will do," I grin, turning on my heel and hurrying to the tavern entrance.

It's relatively quiet inside at the moment, just a few bounty hunters chatting at the bar. I spot Yuji in amongst them and give him a small nod, which he returns. Amane waves excitedly at me on the other side of the bar, leaping over to rush across the room and give me a hug. "I'm glad you're back!" she squeals. "How did you find it?"

"Intense," I laugh, patting her head. "We ran into a rough patch on the way there, but apart from that, I think it went well enough. Where's Ryou?"

"Upstairs. And Tou?"

"With Cleo. He'll be here in a minute."

"Oh, good." Amane pulls back and brushes her hair out of her face. "I bet you're exhausted now. You should go and take a nap." Wrinkling her nose, she pokes my shoulder gingerly. "And a bath. You're all gross."

"Gee, thanks."

At that moment, Bakura saunters in, a broad grin on his face. "I believe somebody wanted a souvenir?" he calls out to Amane.

"I never said I wanted one!" she replies with a roll of her deep brown eyes. "But…whatever, let's see what you got."

"Catch. Careful, Marik says it's a little hot!"

Bakura fishes in his pocket and tosses Abaki's eye across the room in a controlled arc. It lands in Amane's outstretched hands with a  _plop._ "Oh sweet heavens, what on  _earth_ is this?" she laughs. "Is it an  _eye?_ Tou, this is vile."

"It's hilarious!"

"Wow, it's really warm," Amane murmurs, moving it from hand to hand. Soft footsteps on the stairs make us look up behind the bar, and Ryou emerges a few moments later, waving to us. "Look at this, Ryou," Amane grins, holding out the eye. "Isn't our brother considerate?"

Ryou leans over the bar to frown at the eye, blinking a few times. "This is…"

Then a look of pure horror takes over his face. "Amane, throw that outside,  _now!"_

"W-What?  _Ouch!"_ Amane suddenly cries out and drops the eye to the floor, clutching her hands to her chest. "It burned me!"

Her fearful eyes meet Bakura's confused stare, but there's no time to react.

The air crackles. There's a rush of heat. Then we're all thrown violently as the eye explodes.


	7. Chapter 7

Has time stopped?

Hot…so hot…

What’s going on?

“Ryou! Ryou! Get up!”

Amane’s shriek cuts through the silence. Something clicks in my mind, and I manage to push myself onto my knees, looking around blearily.

The explosion has been contained, pushed back by an invisible wall. The flames lick angrily at the protection, occasionally slipping through but for the most part remaining to one side of the room. The damage has been done though. I have no idea how long it took for the flames to be halted, but they’ve already ripped through the tavern, charring anything in its path. There’s a body slumped over the bar, his skin blistered and blackened.

Amane cries out again, and now I can see her, pinned to the floor by Ryou’s shivering weight. Her legs kick out madly and she pushes at him, but he doesn’t let up. He must have dived over the bar at the very last moment to push her out of the way of the explosion, but he’s taken the brunt of it in the process. His whole back is burned beyond recognition, shirt shredded and hanging in ragged strips. What little fresh skin can be seen is covered in blood.

Ryou’s magic…that’s what’s holding back the flames. He’s chanting under his breath, and he must be in agony, so how he’s keeping his voice steady is beyond me. Amane gives him one final push, and he slumps to the side, still chanting, but trembling violently. “Ryou!” she cries, grabbing his shoulders, then pulling back with a jerk as she feels the ruins of his skin beneath her fingers. “W-What’s this? You…Ryou, your back…”

I manage to drag myself over to her and grab her wrist. “Amane…we need to get out of here,” I whisper. “It’s not safe.”

“No!” she screams, throwing my grip off. “We have to get everybody else out first! Where’s Tou?!”

“I’ve got him,” comes a soft voice from near the entrance.

Yuji’s got Bakura supported over his shoulder. His face is a little burned, but otherwise he looks unharmed. Bakura, on the other hand, appears to be barely conscious, but not from injury. He looks shell-shocked, unable to process what’s going on around him.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Amane bursts into tears. “Yuji, get him away from here. You know he can’t – ”

“I know. Amane, are you sure you can get everyone out?”

“I have to. Go, go!”

Yuji grimaces, but he nods. “Stay alive, munchkin. Marik! Keep her safe!” With a grunt, he heaves Bakura up a little higher and barges the door open.

Amane tries to pull Ryou up to his feet, but he can barely stand. “Help me!” she says to me urgently. With my hands under his arms and her supporting his waist, we manage to manoeuvre him upright. Sweat streams down his soot-blackened face, his chant never ceasing but beginning to quaver. “Please, Marik, you have to get him outside,” begs Amane. “I’ll get everyone else that’s still alive.”

“I can’t leave you in here,” I protest.

“Yes, you can! You have to! Get Ryou outside, please! His spell won’t hold out much longer if he passes out.”

She isn’t going to relent. Her eyes are wide and pleading, fear and bravery and determination coursing through them all at once. Slowly, I nod and she lets go of Ryou’s waist, letting him slump weakly against me. “I’ll come back for you,” I tell Amane, and she nods in return, turning to find out the fate of the remaining patrons.

There’s a crowd of people outside the tavern when I manage to pull Ryou outside, gasping as the fresh air fills my lungs. Several rush forward, taking Ryou from me. His chants never stop, but as someone begins pouring water over his back, he trembles, and his words become mere chokes in his throat. Then his eyes roll back and he collapses into the dirt, silent, unconscious.

A moment later, flames explode out of every downstairs window, and the crowd screams collectively.

“Amane!” I shout, suddenly flooded with something I’ve not felt in years. Fear. So much fear. My heart is pounding madly, my breathing rapid and anxious. A hand grabs my wrist, and I look down into the terrified face of Bakura. His cheeks are smudged with soot, a deep gash at his temple. “Help her,” he whispers hoarsely. “Marik…help her…please…”

Yuji appears at my other side, biting his lip. “It’s not safe, Kura. We can’t- ”

“She’s my sister!” he screams. “I have to get her out.”

“Kura, the fire – ”

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “I’ll go in.”

“Marik, you might die,” Yuji protests.

“It’s okay,” I repeat.

Bakura’s eyes fill with tears and he nods. I can’t even imagine the fear in his heart right now, the guilt. I know it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t mean to cause the explosion. But there’s no time to reassure him. Amane’s still in there, and she needs help. I give Bakura’s hand a quick squeeze and then pull away, leaving him in Yuji’s care as I sprint towards the burning building. My fear is dissipating now. I just need to get in there and get her out alive.

“Amane!” I call out into the blaze. I can barely see anything past the roaring flames. Smoke burns my eyes and my throat, and heat flushes my skin. “Amane!”

Then, I hear her voice from behind the bar. “Marik! Over here!”

Her white head pops up, and relief washes over me. I reach out a hand to help her clamber over the bar, and she clings to me, shivering. Her face, arms and hands are badly burned, and blood wells from her nose. “Let’s get out of here,” she whimpers. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t save them.”

“I’m sure you did all you could,” I murmur.

We turn to leave, but the ceiling gives a sickening crack, raining a deluge of wood, dust and stone upon us. Coughing, we pull our clothing up around our mouths and noses. As the dust settles, we see the exit is blocked from the debris. Amane swears under her breath. “We’ll have to go upstairs. There must be a window we can get out of.”

“Quickly then.” With Amane still holding tightly onto me, we hurry for the stairs, which are mercifully unobstructed by fire. I can feel fear radiating from her, and I wish more than anything that I could take it for myself.

It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of here. I’ll keep her safe.

We go up the stairs carefully, Amane first, then me, in case they give out from the strain. It’s clear that this is no ordinary fire. The way it’s spread and ravaged so quickly is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Truly, this world is a frightening place. If Bakura had known this would happen, I know he never would have taken the eye.

Amane clings to me again as soon as I clear the top step. She’s swaying a little on her feet now, as if dizzy. I pull her shirt up a little more securely around her nose and instruct her to keep it in place with her hand, before wrapping an arm round her shoulders and steering her quickly towards the nearest door, which happens to be my room. The raging inferno claims the stairs the moment we step through the doorway, and there’s no way back now. Amane grabs the nearby lamp, ripping it out of its socket and swinging it bodily at the window; it smashes in a rainfall of crystalline shards. “Go, go!” she croaks at me.

I shake my head. “You first.”

“Marik!”

“I promised Bakura I’d get you out of here! Go, Amane! I’ll be right behind you.”

An uncertain look crosses her face. Then her arms are around me and she’s squeezing tight. “You’re amazing,” she whispers. “We’ve been so strong with you here. Thank you for everything.”

She pulls back, takes a deep breath, and runs towards the window, leaping out into the street below. Over the roar of the flames I hear the collective babble at her appearance, and Bakura’s relieved cry.

The bedroom door explodes into flames. There’s no time to waste! It’s my turn to steel myself and make the jump. It’s high, but I should make it…and a probable broken leg is better than being dead.

Okay…

I can do this…

Deep breath…

And _jump._

The ground hits me with a sharp jolt, knocking the wind out of me, but it’s okay…it’s okay…we’re alive.

Yuji grabs me and leads me quickly away from the burning building, towards the crowd who are swiftly moving us to safety. Ryou is still out for the count, but some of the crowd have some medical training, and one is with him, treating his wounds, while another wipes Amane’s face and inspects her bloody nose. Bakura seems to be refusing to let anyone tend to him, simply watching, half-hidden, behind the rusted remains of an old car that’s been sat on the side of the road for heaven knows how long.

“Are you alright here for a moment?” Yuji asks me gently.

“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Go and talk to Kura.”

He flashes me a thumbs-up and hurries over, while I settle down beside Amane. She’s crying uncontrollably at Ryou’s condition, her face bright red from emotion, blood and burns, and I take her hand, squeezing it carefully. The woman finishes with Amane and checks me over, inspecting my injuries and dabbing them with a substance that stings horribly. I feel fine though, and she quickly moves on to help tend to Ryou. “Are you okay?” I ask Amane.

She shakes her head, wiping her eyes, then coughing violently. “Ryou’s so hurt,” she chokes. “This is like…this is a nightmare. Where’s Tou gone off to?”

I point to the car, where I can just about make out the top of Yuji’s head as he tries to coax Bakura out. “Over there. He’s freaking out. He must think it’s all his fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Amane sniffs. “He didn’t know, surely.” She leans against me with a sigh, closing her eyes. “Gods, Marik…I’ve cried so much I can hardly catch my breath.”

“The smoke probably hasn’t helped,” I reply, putting an arm round her shoulders. “Breathe deeply.”

She does, or tries at least, but her breath is coming in wheezes, almost like a rattle. She coughs again, her palm blackened when she removes it from her mouth.

That’s…not a good sign.

“Marik…!” she gasps. “I…I can’t…”

“Amane!”

This time, she coughs up blood. Everything seems to blur together as I shout out for Bakura, shout out for anyone that can help her. She slumps over into my lap, blood and black sputum pouring from her mouth, her trembling hands clutching at her throat.

Bakura and Yuji are at my side barely seconds later, pure panic on Bakura’s face. “Oh, fuck, Amane, breathe!” he moans, wiping the blood from her mouth frantically with his sleeve. “Come on, sis! Breathe!”

Her eyes are wide, bloodshot and scared. She looks up at Bakura, their matching brown gazes connecting. Her hand reaches out to him, but before she can touch him, her back arches, her eyes roll, and she collapses limply.

I gasp, Yuji groans, Bakura screams. In a split-second, he has her on her back, an ear to her chest while his fingers grope her wrist for a pulse. “She’s not breathing,” he whispers. “Fuck, she’s not breathing!”

“We need someone over here _now!”_ Yuji shouts. Someone pushes him out of the way and begins rapid CPR. Bakura clutches at Yuji, burying his face in his chest and sobbing in terror.

Oh, god.

This can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening!

How could I cry when we said goodbye before our job, but I can’t cry now?!

Amane!

Don’t leave me…please…

But it’s no use. My tears can’t fall.

And Amane can’t be revived.

“Amane Bakura…time of death…8:47PM.”


	8. Chapter 8

The last time I felt like this was when my mother died. I was eight, and it was before my initiation. One day she was fine, smiling as she went about her daily duties, and the next, she was complaining of stiffness in her neck and nausea. Twelve hours later, she was dead. The healers said her brain had swollen.

I remember staring at the white sheet that covered her body and wondering what I had done to make her abandon me and my siblings. I just didn’t understand. I was broken inside.

Broken?

Yes, I suppose that’s the right word. And it’s like I’m reliving it all over again, only instead of a swollen brain, it’s smoke inhalation, and it’s Amane under the sheet instead of my mother.

It’s been a week since the tavern burned down, a week since Amane died. The local hospital was near destroyed in a demon attack some years ago, but its mortuary facilities are somehow still in good working order. Amane has been put in there for the time being, in cold storage to preserve her body while Ryou and Bakura decide how she should be laid to rest. And if I’m broken, they are shattered beyond repair.

Ryou awoke into a living nightmare when he finally came round from his injuries. He’s still stiff and extremely sore, confined to a bed in Yuji’s house while he heals. He could use his magic to speed up the healing, but he’s in such shock that any attempt at harnessing his powers results in failure and him bursting into tears of heart-wrenching grief. Having to tell him that his sister had died while he was unconscious was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, besides going through my initiation. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way the light faded from his eyes, the way his sobs stuck in his throat. All he could do was sit and let the tears run down his cheeks, overcome with numbness.

And as for Bakura, well…

I think a part of him died with his sister. The soul-shattering guilt he must feel for causing the explosion has completely torn him apart. He’s shut down, barely speaking, only leaving his room to use the toilet or visit the mortuary. Most days he sits down there with Amane, despite our protests, but he won’t listen. He just sits there and shivers from the cold. The one time I dared to check in on him, the unearthly sound of his heartbroken wails chilled me straight to the bone.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair. They didn’t deserve this.

Yuji and I have tried our best to take care of the brothers, but aside from letting them ride out their grief, there’s not much more we can do for them. It’s on them now to decide where their lives will lead, whether their minds will heal.

Yuji and I have been spending a lot of time together recently. I guess it was inevitable, since I’m the most functional out of myself, Ryou and Bakura. He took us all back to his house after the blaze was put out, and we’ve been here ever since. He’s very friendly, not as attentive or sharp as Ryou, not as sweet and giggly as Amane, but a happy medium between the two. I can see why Bakura is so taken with him. A tad immature sometimes, but like many of the teenagers in this town, he’s had to fend for himself from a young age, and he likes to lose himself in distraction.

But currently, we’re being mature, sat at his kitchen table with mugs of coffee. Yuji doesn’t like tea, and he introduced me to this black, bitter substance, but it’s growing on me quite rapidly, and I find it keeps me awake. I don’t like to sleep anymore. Ryou does nothing but sleep.

“The other guys who died have already been buried,” Yuji murmurs as he pours more coffee into my mug. “People are asking about how Amane will be taken care of, but I don’t know what to say to them.”

I shrug, shaking my head. “It’s Ryou and Bakura’s call, and they’re not ready yet.”

“We can’t keep her down there forever, Marik.”

“Mm. But I don’t know what to say any more than you do.”

Yuji sighs heavily. “Amane was so popular. Everyone loved her here. I’ve been in this town less than six months and I could tell how much she was loved within days. I can’t believe she’s gone. I thought nothing could take the trio down.”

“They took me in when they could have just left me to die,” I whisper. “I owe them everything.”

“She deserves the best, even in death. I just hope Ryou and Kura can come to a decision soon.”

“I wouldn’t count on anything much from Kura.”

“No…no, me neither.”

“This must be hard on you.”

“No harder on me than it must be for you.”

“You’re his boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Yuji laughs sadly. “Ah, I wish.”

“He cares for you, though. Anyone can see that.”

“I guess, to an extent. But I’m just a convenience for him. I’m too young for him to take me seriously.” He sips his coffee, a small smirk reminiscent of Bakura’s twisting his mouth. “He _is_ cute though, isn’t he? When he isn’t swearing like a sailor and complaining about everything.”

“That’s the Bakura we want back,” I reply.

“Can’t argue with you there. The sooner he gets back to anything slightly resembling normal, the better. I can’t stand to see him like this. The guilt is eating him up inside.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

“He doesn’t believe us.”

“No.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing. He just needs time.”

* * *

 

Three days later, Ryou is well enough to leave his room and come downstairs. Yuji buys tea specially for him, and the gesture perks Ryou up considerably. I help dress his wounds and inspect them for any signs of infection, but they’re healing well. It’s some sort of sick irony that he’s going to inevitably end up disfigured like me, but he doesn’t seem to be upset by it at all, nor has he tried to reach for his magic again since last time. He’s quiet, contemplative and clearly missing his sister, but it’s good to see him smile again.

After another week, Bakura finally emerges from his catatonic state. He still isn’t speaking much, but he begins to help around the house, and starts eating more. His time spent with Amane’s body is less now, and I don’t hear him cry in the night anymore. Most evenings he’ll just sit quietly with Ryou, seemingly deep in thought. He hasn’t let Yuji near him in any way resembling their previous closeness. Maybe it just hurts too much for him right now, I don’t know. I haven’t asked him.

Over the next few days, I hear them discussing plans for Amane’s burial. They don’t want to cremate her, not after it was fire that killed her, and honestly, I don’t think Bakura could take it. But there’s an old orchard on the far end of town that she had loved since she was very young, and they eventually decide she should be buried there. Yuji gets to work carving a headstone for her, Ryou dictates the words to carve, and Bakura just sits and watches them with dead, dull eyes.

He begins to spend more time with me, in the safety and privacy of his room. Most of the time it’s unbroken silence. I always wait for him to speak, to know if he’s ready to open up. When he does, he tells me anything to try and keep his mind off his grief, and I indulge him willingly, sharing, just a little, in his pain, but wanting to forget just as much.

Sometimes Bakura still cries, but now he’ll let someone be there for him. Never Yuji, usually Ryou, occasionally me. The first time I truly held him was strange, and ignited a peculiar, fluttering feeling in my stomach, but I thought nothing much of it at the time, simply wanting to do anything I could to stop his tears. I’d held him before, but that was on the back of a horse, and nothing like this. It wasn’t…intimate. This is.

And yet, I don’t mind it at all. Just how I didn’t mind him touching my scars.

It just feels…normal. Like it’s something I should be doing.

Three weeks after the explosion, Amane’s funeral is scheduled for the following day. Ryou’s back is almost fully healed, much of the stiffness gone. Deep layers of scar tissue cover him from shoulders to tailbone, and he occasionally compares himself to me with slight amusement, tinged with sadness. In a macabre way, Ryou being unconscious as Amane died probably saved his mind from breaking down as severely as Bakura’s did, but I also can’t forget what he told me about his magic – that it was a side effect of surviving being corrupted by the shadows. Maybe his brush with darkness made him stronger, more able to withstand his loss.

But Bakura, he still needs a close touch, he needs the comfort of a warm body against his own. Yuji has given up on trying to initiate any contact between them, but he doesn’t seem too upset by it. I guess he’s right; they weren’t as close as I initially thought.

It’s me who does it all now. If he isn’t hiding in his room, Bakura spends much of his time clinging onto me. A hand on my arm, a head on my shoulder, his chest to my back, anything he can manage with the space he has. Ryou smiles at us every time, saying we look very sweet together. Yuji is surprised at first, then he just shrugs and makes us more tea and coffee. I do feel bad. Bakura is clearly craving closeness, and in his ex-lover’s house, he’s clinging onto someone entirely different. Yet, I don’t say anything. I just sit there, and let him indulge, and wonder why I’m feeling bad when usually I wouldn’t feel anything at all.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”

We’re in Bakura’s bed. Night has fallen, Yuji and Ryou have been asleep for hours, but Bakura has remained awake, and I with him. My nightmares have been worse since the explosion, and Bakura can’t stand the loneliness of the witching hour, so more often than not, we end up in each other’s’ beds. I don’t know when this odd interaction began between us, but I…I don’t want it to end. It feels natural.

I repeat my words, my face pressed into Bakura’s hair, so I’m a little muffled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”

He lets out a snort, shaking his head. “Don’t be stupid,” he mutters. “You kept your word.”

“Hm?”

“You got her out alive. She died, but you kept your word. You saved her.” Bakura sighs and shifts closer to me, curling in so his head rests against my chest. Instinctively, my arms wrap around him, closing the scant distance between us and pressing our bodies flush together. He’s warm, built with rippling muscle, and the rise and fall of his chest against mine is deeply comforting. “I don’t know how the fuck I can ever thank you enough for getting her out of there.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I reply softly.

“Well…that respect I talked about on the way to Minya…consider it heightened tenfold now.”

“Why?”

“Because you did what I couldn’t.”

“Kura, I…”

“Shhh.” Bakura closes his eyes, sighing again. “Just shut up and accept the damn compliment already.”

“…If you say so.”

We sleep that night…at least, I think we do. Bakura’s breathing eventually evens out, but I remain in some sort of lucid state. In the morning, I feel rested, but I seem to remember holding Bakura all night.

This won’t last, I’m sure. It’s just until he gets back on his feet. Once he feels normal again, he’ll be back to his sarcastic self, throwing his usual insults at me, battering me black and blue during sparring.

But till then, I’m going to help him through however he needs.


	9. Chapter 9

It looks like everybody in Amarna has come out to pay their last respects to Amane. I had no idea just how popular she was here, but the outpouring of love I feel throughout the orchard as she’s laid to rest is profound.

Amane’s casket is closed. There was no questioning otherwise, as her body had been too burned during the explosion, and both Ryou and Bakura said she wouldn’t have wanted to be fussed around in death to have her appearance improved. So they opted to keep it closed. Instead, mementos of her are everywhere. The ragged teddy bear that she dragged with her through the wilderness as a child, her collection of hair ribbons, photos taken by the townspeople of her playing, serving, sparring. I never saw her fight in the time that I knew her, but I knew her capabilities, and what she used. Her glaive rests against the tree beside her casket, having been cleaned and polished to remove any traces of soot and debris. How these things survived the fire is anyone’s guess, but somehow they had been recovered in good condition.

The day is crisp, bright, but there’s sadness in the air. It’s Ryou and Bakura’s final goodbye to their sister. Ryou is reading out a eulogy while Bakura hangs back, leaning against a tree with a cigarette in his hand. I sit alone amongst the townspeople, listening raptly to Ryou’s speech. His voice is a little shaky, but there’s confidence in his stance, a clear desire to do justice to his sister’s memory.

“We came to Amarna almost twelve years ago, a trio of orphans. Amane was just a toddler, and she’d seen far too much in her short life. All Touzo and I could do was try to protect her from the horrors of this world. The townspeople took us in with open arms, welcomed us into their community like we were family. You all loved Amane as a daughter, and you raised her with warmth, adoration, a showering of affection she could never remember from our parents.

“Amane was sweet. She was kind. She was the shining star of our town. She grew from a withdrawn, frightened little girl into a blossoming flower that captured the hearts of men and women alike, for her beauty, wit and charm. Had we remained out in the open, just us three, I don’t think she would have survived, but when you took her in, took _us_ in, she thrived. She took it upon herself, always, to make friends, to get to know anyone and everyone. When we took over the tavern, she was eight, and I remember that she would nestle herself in amongst all the bounty hunters, no matter how big and scary they looked, and chat with them, play cards with them, make it known that she was interested in everything they did. Honestly, I think people came for Amane rather than the beer!”

Ryou stops to dab at his eyes, and as I glance back at Bakura, I see him smiling sadly at his brother’s words.

“My sister looked out for anybody; young or old, man or woman, angel or criminal. If you were good to her, she was good to you. She’d do anything for anyone. Even at the end of her life, she was looking out for those around her…she couldn’t leave the burning tavern without trying to save her friends. Amane was the sweet, shining star we all loved until her last breath…and I hope that you continue to remember her, and keep her in your hearts, in the hopes that her memory will light your way in times of darkness, just as she did for us when she was alive.

“Thank you…thank you all for coming to say goodbye. It means more to Tou and I than we can ever put into words.”

Ryou’s words are raw from pain, from grief and sheer loneliness, but we can all hear the pride in his voice. His sister was the light of his life, and though she isn’t here now, I know that she’ll never be a mere memory in this town. She will be so much more.

Ryou removes the single white rose from the buttonhole of his jacket, turning and kneeling, a little awkwardly from his injured back, to place it on top of Amane’s closed casket. Bakura pushes himself away from the tree and moves to kneel beside him, repeating the action with his own rose. Ryou helps him to his feet, grasping his hands gently, and Bakura envelopes him into his arms, touching his hair and kissing his temple. “You did well,” I hear him murmur softly.

“Do you think I did her proud?” Ryou whispers.

“She’d probably throw something at you and tell you to stop being so soppy,” Bakura winks.

“You can say that again.”

“But…yeah, I reckon you did. Better than I could have done.”

There isn’t a single dry eye in the crowd now. Even my cheeks are wet. My emotions have been flooding in and disappearing as quickly as they come, at a rapid pace over the last few days. It’s confusing, and has made me a little fragile, but my feelings are nothing compared to Ryou and Bakura right now.

They come to sit down with me as other townsfolk come up to bless the casket, leave mementos, give their own parting words, remembering Amane in their own way. Many touch Ryou’s shoulder afterwards, offering their condolences, praising his speech, but Bakura keeps his head low, and everyone leaves him to his own devices.

His defensiveness isn’t unwarranted. We’ve all heard the talk around town, that they blame him for Amane’s death, that he should be ashamed to call himself her brother. We’ve tried to keep him away from it all, but I don’t think he’s even been paying attention, still too numb in his grief. Completely ignoring everyone else around him, he pulls his head up to rest it on Ryou’s shoulder, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and sighing. “I don’t think this will feel real until the casket’s been lowered,” he murmurs.

“Will you stay for it?” Ryou asks him.

“Mm-hm.”

Ryou glances over to me. His eyes are glittering with unshed tears as he tries to remain strong. “She was so fond of you, Marik. Will you stay too?”

I blink at him, surprised. “I-I…oh, I don’t know…is it okay?”

“Of course it is,” Bakura snaps. “Don’t be stupid. You were family to her.”

“But you don’t have to,” Ryou insists gently.

I guess I’ve no reason to say no, and to be honest, I’ve never even seen a funeral being performed, so in a dark way, I want to know how it’s done. So I nod. “I’ll stay.”

The casket is lowered now. Ryou wanted to help, but on account of his back, he eventually decided otherwise, so some of the stronger men of the town take the honour. Fascinated, saddened and inquisitive all at the same time, I watch intently as the simple casket disappears below the earth. The various mementos from the townspeople are placed into the grave, and then it’s time for everyone to depart.

Ryou, Bakura and I remain behind. Rain begins to drizzle from the sky as we settle down beside the open grave, light at first, giving way to a heavier downpour. But I don’t mind. I’ve heard wonderful stories about the feeling of rain on one’s skin, and this is my first time to feel it myself. Eyes closed, I turn my face to the heavens and let the cool raindrops wash over me. Soon our hair and clothing stick to our faces and bodies. I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is my last chance to say my goodbyes to the sweet girl that gave me a home.

The words just don’t come though, no matter how hard I try, and I’ve nothing to leave with her as a memento.

Unless…

Yes, that will do.

My golden jewellery is my pride and joy, the only things in life I ever felt attached to after my initiation robbed me of all emotion. Amane used to flick my earrings and tease me for wearing something so effeminate, and insinuate that one day she’d “borrow” some of my gold for herself.

Well, she can keep some of it forever.

I slip a ring off my middle finger and press it to my lips. “Sleep well, Amane,” I whisper. “Thank you for everything.” Then I drop it into the grave, letting it tumble freely from my palm.

Maybe it’s because the closure is here that I feel so strongly about Amane’s passing. With my mother, my brother, my sister, I wasn’t allowed near their bodies after they died. They were cremated and their ashes interred somewhere we weren’t allowed to know about. They weren’t spoken of again. And I feel little towards their deaths.

But this…the whole process of saying goodbye, and remembering the departed…it’s something else entirely.

And I cry. I cry, unashamed, and my chest hurts from the sobs, but I can’t hold them back, and I can’t even tell if it’s rainwater or tears cascading down my cheeks.

Intermingling with my sniffs and sobs, I hear voices conjoining in seamless harmony. Ryou, then Bakura. They’re singing, and it’s beautiful, haunting, so very sad.

_Dear sister, can you help me lie?_  
_I've told the truth so many years_  
_No one seems to want to hear that_  
_I'm not someone else inside_

_I've been along this lonely road_  
_Looks like I'm not coming home_  
_But I don't mind_  
_Please don't cry…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Song lyrics from "Dear Sister" by The Pretty Reckless._ **


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, I wake to angry shouting and clattering around downstairs, making me jump, startled, out of Bakura’s bed. I’m alone, and it’s his voice I can hear doing most of the yelling. Rubbing my eyes, I tie my hair back, change into clean clothes, and leave the room to peer tentatively over the bannister.

Bakura is sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor, looking irritated, while Yuji paces restlessly and Ryou eyes them both worriedly from his curled-up position in an armchair. “There’s no way I can just let you two run off like this,” Yuji is saying. “Ryou isn’t even fully healed, and your head is still all over the place, Kura. If you think I’m going to sit back and watch you run off to get yourself killed, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“It has nothing to do with you!” Bakura growls. “This is something both Ryou and I have to do for ourselves. You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s too dangerous!”

“It’s important!”

“You’re being stupid!”

“And you’re being a stubborn jackass!”

Yuji stops pacing, and sighs, running a hand through his hair. “If you must go…at least let me come with you. I’d do nothing but worry for you otherwise.”

“Like hell!” Bakura laughs sardonically. “I’m not having some annoying kid tag along with me.”

“Tou,” Ryou chides gently, “Yuji has taken good care of us these last few weeks. You should be showing him more respect.”

“No, it’s okay, Ryou,” Yuji tells him. “Believe me, I’m used to it now.” He looks back at Bakura with a small frown. “I suppose you’ll take Marik with you though.”

He shrugs in reply. “That’s up to him. He can do whatever the hell he wants.”

“But I can’t?”

“You haven’t been trained under me, that’s the difference here.”

Yuji’s face flushes angrily. I know he’s jealous of the interaction between Bakura and I recently. I’ve tried so hard to keep him from clinging to me when Yuji is around, but he just doesn’t care who sees when he’s in need of comfort.

But why are they leaving?

I make my presence known at that point, descending the stairs with a wary expression. All eyes turn on me. “Where are you going?” I ask. “You’ve never said anything about leaving before.”

Bakura sighs and rubs a hand over his face, looking towards Ryou, who pipes up in his stead. “We can’t stay here forever,” he says. “It’s time for us to go back home.”

“Home?”

“Kul Elna,” Bakura says quietly. “Our hometown…where our parents died.”

“It’s too painful to stay here,” Ryou chips in, looking saddened, “and really…we’ve just both decided that it’s time…time to join the fight we’d been preparing ourselves for all these years.”

Okay, now I’m confused.

Yuji looks between me and Bakura, then Bakura to Ryou, and throws his hands up into the air in frustration. “I can’t deal with this,” he mutters. “I’m going out.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Bakura snaps as the front door slams. Ryou throws a cushion at him, shooting him a deathly glare. “Get lost, Ryou! What was that for?”

“You’re being so awful to Yuji right now!” Ryou snaps back. “After everything he’s done for us, you’re going to treat him like that? This is difficult for him. You know how he feels about you. You might not feel the same way, but you’ve been close to him, so you must understand how much this is hurting him. We have to do this, I know, but can’t you be a little more tactful?”

Bakura says nothing, just stands up and moves to throw himself onto the threadbare sofa, crossing his arms over his head. He seems determined not to discuss whatever the hell his relationship with Yuji is at this point.

Another emotion hits me: awkwardness. And I don’t like it. I can feel my face heating up, and I pointedly make myself scarce into the kitchen. Yuji always makes hot drinks when there’s been conflict or someone is upset, so I do just that, making one for myself, and then for Ryou and Bakura too before I even realise I’ve done it.

I bring the mugs in, passing them out. Ryou looks a little surprised, but Bakura accepts his with a tiny smile. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask them, sitting down in Bakura’s vacant spot on the floor.

Bakura lays his arms back over his face, sighing. “Remember when I said I’d tell you why I don’t like fire?”

“Mm. I remember.”

“Right, well…it stems back to Kul Elna. You know that we’re not from here, that we’re from Ezo originally, but Kemet is all I remember, and I’m sure Ryou’s the same.” Ryou nods in agreement at this. “Amane was born in Kul Elna, so she didn’t know anything at all about the nation the rest of us are from. But that’s neither here nor there…Kul Elna was home, for all of us.”

“Our parents tried their hardest to raise us in safety,” Ryou chips in. “They were good people, and they just wanted us to be happy and away from danger. But what could they do? The Dark One’s influence was everywhere, and Kul Elna quickly became isolated from the rest of Kemet. It was a potent target for demon attacks. But they didn’t want to leave. They’d moved us around too much already, and our mother was pregnant, and the added stress would have been too much for her. So they stayed…and they fought, and somehow managed to survive another few years.”

Bakura sits up and swings his legs to the floor, raising his mug to his lips while gesturing for me to sit beside him. “Amane was about two years old when the final attack came,” he says, more into his drink than to us. “The whole town became covered in darkness, and the townspeople succumbed to it, one by one. I remember the light just…going…out of their eyes, and their minds shut down. Then they turned on each other.”

“It was a distraction,” Ryou says. “They wanted us all out of the way so they could make obliterating the town easier.”

“But why?” I ask.

“They were good fighters,” he shrugs. “They’d taken down a fair few of the Dark One’s higher-ranking soldiers; not just the mindless drones that roam the land, but the ones that retain a consciousness of their own, that have their orders and fight directly for their master.”

“I’m still confused,” I admit.

“Zorc,” Bakura mutters. “The one who brought the darkness to our world. Most call him the Dark One. If it weren’t for him, we’d still have our parents, we’d still be happy in that town…our sister would still be alive.”

He closes his eyes, and I can almost see his heart breaking for the thousandth time. “Most of the townspeople had been afflicted by the darkness by the time the demon horde swarmed in to finish them off. I grabbed Amane and hid her away, but I couldn’t find Ryou, and I couldn’t see our parents anywhere. I could hear screaming, and the clash of metal, and I could smell blood. Amane was crying, she wouldn’t stop, she kept asking for our mother, but I didn’t know where she was. And then the flames sprang up…they were everywhere. The demons had set fire to everything, to drive us out and kill us all.”

Bakura begins to tremble. “I cried then. I screamed out for anyone that might still be human, and after a while, I saw my mother, but…she wasn’t the same. She had fallen to the darkness, and she didn’t even seem to feel as the fire burned her alive. She’d truly been lost to the fucked-up shadows that Zorc had the good grace to bestow on us.”

Ryou watches him with deep sympathy etched on his face. “I was still myself at this point,” he says quietly, “but I was desperately trying to bring my father round. He’d fallen to the darkness too, and didn’t recognise me anymore. As I clung to him and begged him to stop, a demon drove its blade through his heart, and I watched him die. His darkness flowed out along with his blood and…it entered me, and I think…I think I blacked out at that point. I don’t remember anything after that, just that everything was black, and cold, and so, so isolated. It felt like nobody would ever find me and bring me back to life.”

Bakura nods slowly. “He came stumbling through the flames like some sort of fucking zombie. I was still hiding with Amane, and she was screaming and screaming. We were the last ones left, and the demons had long since gone. I guess they didn’t think a little kid like Ryou was worth their time; he was only five, after all. Seeing him like that terrified me. Part of me wanted to turn tail and run, get Amane to safety, but I couldn’t leave my little brother behind. So I ran to him, and shook him, and tried to slap some sense into him. But he just…looked at me with those huge eyes of his, and they went through me. He couldn’t see me at all. I just…froze, I guess. I let go of him and completely broke down. I didn’t know Amane had left her hiding place until she was right in front of Ryou, tugging on his sleeve and asking him to cuddle her, but I was so far gone by that point that I couldn’t even bring myself to drag her away.”

My mouth is open in horror. I can’t believe that they experienced such tragedy when they were young. Suddenly, Bakura’s fear of fire makes sense. Who wouldn’t be scared after experiencing something like this?

“This was when you were corrupted,” I say to Ryou, a statement, not a question. He nods grimly. “What brought you out?”

Now he smiles. “Amane,” he whispers. “I heard her voice, and her touch. She couldn’t say my name properly back then, but she kept repeating it over and over… “Ree, Ree, cuddle, Ree.” And something inside me just snapped, and suddenly I realised where I was, what was happening, and I scooped her up into my arms and held her tight. The fire was closing in on us, and I panicked, and that’s when I felt the tingling in my hands, and the flood of power into my body. It was so intense that I dropped Amane, but at that moment, the flames froze…every single one of them.”

He looks back over to Bakura, who sits hunched, his hands shivering around his mug despite the warmth of the drink inside it. “Amane laughed at that,” Ryou continues. “She ran up to the ice and touched it, and laughed, shouting that it was cold. Tou came out of his trance then, but he’d snapped into battle mode, and he grabbed us both and ran, as far away as we could get. We didn’t look back, we couldn’t. There was nothing left for us there.”

I can barely even process this. They’ve been through so much. How have they managed to survive through such horror? It’s almost impossible to comprehend.

Ryou sighs and leans back in his chair, drinking deeply from his mug as if telling his story has exhausted him. Bakura sets his mug down and puts his face in his hands, shaking his head back and forth. “It’s no life, just existing like this,” he says in a muffled voice. “That’s why we’ve got to go, we’ve got to go back home. Our work still isn’t done. We’ve got to pick up where our parents left off, but we weren’t ready…not till now. It’s taken Amane dying for us to realise that we’re more than strong enough for this now.”

He lifts his head and looks at me with steely determination in his eyes. “We’re going to kill Zorc. We’re going to vanquish this godforsaken darkness for good. For Amane, for our parents, for everyone that we’ve lost to the shadows. If you want to come with us, I won’t stop you. But this is fucking dangerous, Marik. You have to be prepared for anything.”

My mind was made up the second I put two and two together.

“I’m your apprentice, Kura. Of course I’m coming with you.”

His face splits into a smile, the first true smile I’ve seen. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_The proper thiefshipping goodness starts from this chapter onwards. Sorry to have made you wait. The deathshipping will come in the next couple of chapters._ **

* * *

The next couple of days are spent preparing for the coming journey. There’s a lot to do; Cleo, who thankfully survived the fire, is strong, but even she can’t carry three of us at once, so we need more horses, plus there are supplies to purchase, maps to be drawn up, the list goes on. Bakura hasn’t exactly taken charge, but he seems to have a good grasp of what to do and when. He sent Ryou and I out to the stables to look over the horses, so we could choose our own. It didn’t take long for us to decide; Ryou immediately fell in love with a piebald, while I went with a roan, both female. He called his Amie, and I called mine Isis. We paid for them, and said we’d come back for them the day we were due to leave.

Ryou’s back has healed well. He’s a little stiff, not used to the layers of scar tissue, but he’s doing well, and doesn’t seem to suffer any lasting pain like I do with my own scars. I’ve been helping him rub oil into the wounds, like my sister used to do with mine, to soften them and ease the stiffness. He _really_ likes to be touched, which is quite amusing. The first time he let me rub him down, he’d uttered such blissful moans that Bakura was convinced something a little more erotic had been taking place, until he poked his head round the door to see what we were doing. Then he’d fallen about laughing, but that was fine. It was good to hear him laugh again.

Bakura himself has been going over the maps and drawing out the route we should take. It seems simple enough; all we have to do is follow the Nile northwards. There are numerous villages dotted along its banks, so we’ll hopefully have no trouble getting hold of supplies, and the river will provide water.

“Why Kul Elna?” I ask Ryou, the day before we leave.

It’s late evening, and we’re sparring in Yuji’s front yard. Ryou isn’t bad with a blade, but as he prefers to use magic, he has a tendency to hang back and use ranged staves. This also makes him quite the dab hand with bladed staves, when the occasion calls for it, and recently he took up Amane’s glaive, teaching himself the techniques she herself would fight with. Currently, we’re using _bo,_ metal-ringed pole weapons, and the way they are wielded is like an art form in itself. Many of our weapons were damaged in the fire, so we’ve had to source extra. It’s a good thing that last job paid well.

Ryou wipes sweat from his brow and sets his _bo_ aside, sitting down on the ground and motioning for me to join him. “You’d think there were nothing left there, wouldn’t you?” he says, swigging from a nearby bottle of water. “It’s not like we need to tie up loose ends, or get closure, or anything like that. No, it’s mostly because it’s easier to get to Zorc from there, and also, we’ve been hearing rumours that a rebel army has been amassing there. We’re intrigued, especially considering who we hear is at the head of the lot.”

“And who would that be?” I ask.

“An old rival of Tou’s. Way back when, Kemet had a royal family, but when the darkness came, most of them were the first to fall. The prince managed to escape with his priests when he was just a boy, and we’ve come across him a few times over the years, on jobs and such. He’s a few years older than me, but younger than Tou.”

“I know about some of the royal line,” I say thoughtfully, rubbing my chin. “My cult did hero-worship one of them, after all. It’s weird, though…none of us know his name. They say nobody wrote it down when he was alive, so when he passed, he was just forgotten.”

“Mm…they used to place a lot of importance on that,” Ryou nods. “He was probably an ancestor of Atem’s – oh, that’s his name, by the way. The prince, I mean. I’d try to pronounce his surname, but I’d just make a fool of myself.”

“Akhenamkhanen,” comes an amused voice from behind us. Bakura sidles up, still engrossed in his map, but somehow manages to sit down without treading on us in the process. “Atem Akhenamkhanen,” he repeats. “One of the best beastmasters I ever saw, but he’s also an arrogant piece of shit with a stupid haircut. I’ve had the misfortune of working alongside him at least once.”

“He really isn’t that bad,” Ryou sighs.

“Yeah, he fucking is. Last time you saw him, you were twelve years old, so you won’t even remember. I ran into him about two, maybe three years back, and he hasn’t changed. Still an arrogant piece of shit.”

Ryou rubs a hand over his face, exasperated. “Whatever you say, Tou. Don’t you be saying that to his face when you next see him. He _is_ a prince, after all.”

“Oh, I’ll say all that to him and more,” Bakura grins. “He can take it, believe me. I’ve had quite the argument with his Majesty in the past. I always win, of course.” He sets the map down on the ground and points to a spot north of us. “Right…this is where we’re going. No use following the Nile the whole way though, as it’ll be rife with bandits and god knows what else. Nah, we’ll have to divert every now and then, but we won’t go too far away from it. Useful resources along the banks, so we don’t want to deprive ourselves of them. Take us a week to get to Kul Elna, tops.”

I nod, peering over the map. “Sounds good.”

“Are you prepared?” Bakura asks me. “This isn’t going to be any old trip, Marik. It’s fucking dangerous out there, and if you’re following us, you’re doing it with the intent of hitching a ride with the rebels. They want to take down the darkness for good, and that means a lot of us could die, me, you, and Ryou included.”

“Don’t be silly,” I reply. “I meant it when I said I’d go with you. I’m not going to turn tail and run to safety now, not now I’ve experienced life out here. It’s making me feel alive. Dangerous or not, I want that feeling to stay. And I want to be with you…and Ryou, of course. I won’t leave you to fight out there alone.”

Ryou smiles at that, but it’s Bakura’s expression that really captures my gaze. Soft, surprised, almost…tender. Then his usual smirk takes over and he flips his braid over his shoulder, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you’ve got everything together, okay? I’m turning in for the night, you guys should probably do the same soon.” Pushing himself up, he swipes the map and rolls it up before going back to the house.

“I guess he’s right,” Ryou murmurs, watching him go. “We’ll be heading out pretty early.” He rolls his shoulders, wincing, as he gets to his feet. “Thanks for sparring with me tonight, Marik. We did pretty well, I think.”

I nod in agreement, smiling. “Yeah. You’re good with the _bo._ It’ll be interesting to see how you fight with it in a real battle.”

“I won’t cross my fingers for one anytime soon,” he laughs, extending his hand to me. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

The boiler is on full blast when we tumble wearily into the house, its bright blue flame heating up the metal container above it. Yuji is standing over the stove in the kitchen, stirring a pot of bubbling stew, and he glances up momentarily when we approach. “Figured you’d be hungry by the time you finished sparring,” he says. “I know you’ll be going to bed soon, but you should eat first. You’ve got a long journey ahead of you from tomorrow. Boiler’s on, too, so you can shower before you sleep.”

Ryou flops down into a chair by the table, rubbing his eyes. “You’re like an angel sent from heaven, Yuji,” he yawns. “I’m going to miss you so much, and not just because you’re an awesome cook.”

He laughs lightly at that. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I certainly try.”

I slide into a chair beside Ryou and rest my forehead on the worn, scratched wood of the table. I’m utterly exhausted. So much has had to be done in the last few days that I’m ready to drop any moment, but still, I can also feel a strange thrill at the prospect of riding out with my friends to fight against the army of the dark. My time as a mercenary was short, but the skills I’ve picked up will come in useful on the road.

Yuji slides two bowls towards us and places the empty cooking pot in the sink before grabbing his own bowl and sitting opposite Ryou. “All ready to go then?” he asks.

“Just about,” Ryou replies. “I can’t think of anything else that needs to be done.”

Yuji dips some bread into his stew, looking thoughtful. “I kind of envy you,” he says quietly, “heading out and pursuing that dream of yours. Still, you know where your place is, and mine’s here. This town needs protecting, so it’s better that I stay.”

“Will you miss Tou?”

“Honestly, the way he’s been recently, I don’t think I’m likely to miss him at all. Well, bits of him. Not the sour face though.” Yuji grins, and Ryou giggles behind his hand. Yuji’s eyes flash towards me, and I pause with my spoon in my mouth, blinking at him. “Marik…you’ll take care of him, right?”

I take a moment to swallow and put my spoon down. “I don’t think Kura really needs taking care of,” I reply. “He’s more than capable of defending himself.”

“No, not like that. You know what I mean – oh, I guess you don’t. Ah, never mind…forget I said anything.” Yuji looks a little flustered as he returns to his food.

I am _really_ confused right now, but I can feel my cheeks heating up in a slight blush, feeling like I probably should know what he means. I bolt down my food quickly and hurry upstairs to wash the day’s grime away.

* * *

 Yuji’s shower is a little primitive, and the water pressure is temperamental at best, but the tavern only had a rickety old bathtub, and we just wiped ourselves down with a wet cloth in the tombs, so the shower beats them by far. I don’t stay in long, just enough to scrub my skin clean and rinse my hair, then hop out so there’s enough water for Ryou. Wrapping a towel round my waist and another round my hair, I slip across the landing to my room, floorboards creaking under my feet. I can’t hear Bakura anywhere, so I guess he must be asleep.

My back feels okay tonight, but I should put some oil on it if we’re going to be riding a lot tomorrow. I don’t want to seize up and be in a lot of pain, if it means our progress will be hampered. There’s a bottle of it lying on the bed, a new kind that I picked up in the local store a few days ago, and I’ve yet to try it out. Removing the towel from my waist, I sit down heavily on the bed and pick up the bottle, sloshing its contents around contemplatively. Might as well try it now.

Then a knock on the door makes me jump, dropping the oil and nearly falling off the bed. “…Marik?” Bakura’s voice floats through the wood. “You decent in there?”

“Um, give me a minute.” I jump off the bed and grab the nearest pair of trousers, stumbling into them. “Okay, you can come in now.”

Bakura pokes his head round the door, smirking when he sees me standing there, shirtless, with a towel round my head and probably looking rather bashful. “You look like a girl with that thing on your head,” he chuckles.

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Do you need something, Kura?”

“Not really. I just, uh…can’t sleep too well on my own now, as it turns out. Thought I’d come and bug you for a bit.”

“I thought you said we should get some rest?” I sigh, pulling the towel from my hair and running my fingers through it in a futile attempt at neatening it. “Alright, just let me put some oil on my back first. I’ll be ten minutes or so.” I bend down to pick up the oil, my back giving a little stab of discomfort as I do so.

Bakura eyes the bottle in my hand, frowning. “Are you in pain?”

“No, but it’s better if I oil the scars while my skin is soft from washing.”

“…Is it difficult to reach everywhere?”

“Sometimes, depending on how stiff I am. I’m used to it now though.”

“Do you want me to help?”

I blink, surprised. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, do you want me to help?” Bakura shrugs, as if he’s not bothered whether I say yes or no. “I’ve touched your back before. It’s not like it disgusts me or anything.”

“Um…” I stammer, feeling my cheeks heat up again. Letting him touch my scars for curiosity’s sake is one thing, but letting him smooth oil over my skin is something else altogether.

But then again, I’ve been helping Ryou with his own scars, so I guess this is no different…

Except there’s…there’s definitely something between Bakura and I, that I don’t have with Ryou. Something more intimate. I don’t know what it means though. I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it’s confusing me so much.

The prospect of a rub down does appeal to me though…

Hmm…

“Okay then.”

Bakura flashes me his trademark smirk. “Awesome. Lie on your stomach and I’ll get to work.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must be crazy. But he has made me feel more emotions in the mere months that I’ve known him than anyone in the tombs could in eight whole years. I’m losing myself to this flood of feeling, but I don’t want to pull back. It’s…it’s _good._ I _want_ to feel it all.

So after a small moment of hesitation, I slide back onto the bed and roll over, placing my arms under my head and closing my eyes. A few seconds later, I feel the mattress depress beside me, and a deep, pleasant tingle runs down my spine when Bakura’s fingers gently brush my hair to the side, away from my back and neck. “You’re shaking,” Bakura laughs. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” I mutter. “It felt strange when you moved my hair.”

“Good strange, or bad strange?”

“Ryou calls it the ASMR effect.”

“Ah…that’s good strange.” I hear the cap on the bottle of oil being opened and the faint glug of the liquid as he pours some into his hands. “I’m going to put this on you now, okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

The first touch of Bakura’s cool hands to my back makes me twitch, but when he starts to spread the oil over my scars, I feel almost instantaneous relaxation. He isn’t just applying the oil, he’s massaging it in, and it feels wonderful. A soft gasp escapes me, followed by a heavy exhale. “Is this okay?” Bakura asks. I nod, and I can almost sense the smirk on his face as he continues to work the oil into my skin.

There’s silence for a while, only my heavy breaths breaking the quiet, or Bakura pausing to slosh a little more oil into his hands. After a while, I speak, softly and feeling comfortable beyond measure. “Do you think this is inappropriate?”

Bakura’s hands stop moving a moment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I – _ah!”_ Bakura’s wandering fingers hit a spot on my shoulder that makes me flinch. “Ow! Careful!”

“Sorry. Must be a knot. Hang on a sec, I’ll sort it.” His fingers press into the spot, holding still, and it’s uncomfortable for a few seconds, then it feels like it’s unravelling and before I can stop myself, I utter a groan of satisfaction. Bakura laughs, going back to smoothing over my skin. “You were saying?”

“Oh, um…well, yeah…after everything you’ve been through with Yuji, is it not…weird…that we’re doing this?”

Bakura shrugs. “I don’t know why you’re concerned. There’s never been anything serious between me and him. Never was, never will be.”

“Still…it’s his house, and we’ve been sleeping in the same bed, and…I don’t know if it’s right.”

Bakura doesn’t reply for a while. When he does, his voice is low and controlled. “Can I confess something to you, Marik?”

“Sure.”

“I get…confused when I’m around you. Like…like everything we do, I feel like I want more from, but it’s weird, because you’re like a little brother to me now, but at the same time, I…” He gives a nervous laugh. “I don’t really know where I’m going with this.”

My eyes are still closed, my body doesn’t react, but my heart begins to thud rapidly. “I…think I feel the same way,” I murmur into my arms, not even daring to raise my head. “And I’m confused because my emotions are dulled since my initiation…I don’t know what any of this is or why I’m feeling it. It doesn’t feel wrong, but it doesn’t exactly feel right either.”

Bakura’s stroking slows down gradually, till he comes to a stop at the small of my back. “I think you’re done now. How’s that?”

I push myself up and give an experimental stretch. “Much better. Thanks, Kura.”

“You’re welcome, Marik.” When I look at him, I notice a pink blush on his tanned cheeks. I can’t help but think it looks cute on him. The fact that he’s saying my name a lot more now is nice too. He doesn’t call me “kid” at all anymore.

And suddenly it hits me. I realise what it is that I’m feeling.

I cross my legs and drop my gaze, chewing on my bottom lip. “Kura…I think I might be falling in love with you, but I’m…I’m so confused. I’ve gone for so long without my emotions that I’ve forgotten what love feels like.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bakura cock his head to the side slightly. “Is that so?” he asks, his tone as neutral as if I were telling him the sky is blue.

“I…don’t know. My head is all over the place right now.”

A rough, calloused hand slides gently into my own, and that makes me look up again. Bakura is smirking as usual, but there’s a softness in his eyes, his posture relaxed. “Time for another confession, I think,” he murmurs.

“Oh?”

“Marik, I definitely feel the same way, but after losing my parents, and then Amane…fuck, you have to understand, this is hard for me. It’s hard for me to give my love to anybody. Ryou’s all I have left now, and I can’t lose him too, it would tear me to fucking pieces, and then I think I’d just cut my throat, so I wouldn’t be alone in this world. Darkness isn’t worth fighting if I haven’t got him by my side. That’s what I’ve always said to myself, anyway. Sure, I’ve slept with a few guys, but I’ve never let myself feel anything for them…then you came along and turned all that on its damn fucking stupid head.”

He’s nervous too, I can see it, and my head is spinning with all this outpouring of feeling from him and from myself. Pulling my hand away, I stand up to cross the room and flick the light out; Bakura gets the message immediately and pulls back the covers, climbing into bed, and I slip in beside him. There’s enough light from a dim streetlamp outside that I don’t feel uneasy. “Thanks,” he laughs shakily. “This is a lot easier to say when I can’t see your reaction.”

“Kura, your hair is all over the pillow,” I complain, flicking a few stray strands over his shoulders. He lifts his head up to rake his hands over his scalp, pushing his messy silver mane back so I can put my own head down. That done, his arms wind around me and he pulls himself close, nestling his head into my chest as he always does when we sleep alongside each other. I thought his need for nightly comfort would have diminished by now, but it seems he craves it even more these days, either that or he’s simply gotten used to having someone beside him. I can’t say I’m complaining though. He’s a comfortable bed-sharer, and doesn’t steal the blankets.

“You’re young,” Bakura says softly once we’re settled down, “older than Yuji, but still, you’re one of the youngest I’ve ever had my eye on, and I’ve had to tread carefully because of your lack of emotion, but it’s getting harder. Even Ryou said to me last night that he’s been seeing signs for a while, and he’s far from dense, so it must be obvious as fuck to everyone else.”

“I’ll say,” I laugh. “You’ve been clinging to me for weeks.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re the one coming out with the speech!”

“Oh, should _I_ shut up then?”

“No, carry on, please.”

Bakura snorts, amused. “I’m going to end up rambling if I carry on, but you get the message, right? I…think I’m falling in love with you too, but I’m so fucking scared to let myself love anyone, after everything that I’ve been through. I don’t even know _how_ to.”

“Then we’re one and the same.”

Bakura looks up at me, and there’s just enough light in the room for me to see his glittering eyes, like tourmaline waiting to be mined from its rocky prison. “Should we find out together?” he whispers.

I nod, preparing myself. “Let’s do it.”

I’ve never kissed anyone before, nor even thought about it much, but the moment Bakura’s lips touch mine, it’s like I’ve known how to do this my whole life. He’s shifted to hover over me, not quite on top of me, but enough of his body weight is pressing on my chest to send a delightful sparkle of warmth down my spine. Our lips work together softly, pressing together, opening and closing, and the contented sigh Bakura makes into my mouth is like heaven itself.

This is _right._ It feels so…so perfect. Like it’s what I’ve needed the whole time we’ve been growing closer. And I don’t want it to stop. My arms loop round Bakura’s neck, tugging him closer, and he responds by sliding a hand into my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me deeper.

All too soon, it’s over, Bakura pulling away and wiping his lips on the back of his hand. I’m breathless, trying to process what just happened, taking in the enormous flood of emotion that’s overcome me. I realise it’s happiness, sheer happiness. I haven’t felt this way in so long.

Gods, Bakura, what have you done to me?

“We should get some sleep,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

I don’t really trust myself to say anything, so I just nod and let him settle back down beside me. My heart is hammering, my brain whirring at a million miles an hour, but that’s okay, because I’ve finally figured out where my place is in this godforsaken world of darkness.

Blade in hand, on the road, in Ryou’s company, in Bakura’s arms. That’s what I want my life to be.

It’s official. I’m in love.


	12. Chapter 12

Early…far too early. I will never get used to waking up when it’s still dark outside, I swear.

 But…waking up next to Bakura helps, if only a little. He’s like my own little nightlight, with the way his hair glows in the dim light of dawn. He’s laid out on his stomach, slumbering peacefully with his arms tucked under his head, and I lie beside him, watching the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with each slow breath.

I can’t believe what happened last night. I can’t believe he kissed me. It feels like a dream, almost. Did it actually happen? I really can’t be too sure. Confusion muddles my head, as if something inside me is playing a trick, deceiving me. What is this? It did happen…right?

I find myself touching Bakura’s face, brushing my fingers over his cheek, as if to reassure myself that he’s real. He shifts and stirs beneath my touch, stretching out his body before his eyes flutter open, half-lidded and sleepy. “Marik…” he murmurs. “Is it morning already?”

“Mm,” I nod. “We should get up.”

A deep yawn escapes Bakura, but he nods, rubbing his eyes as he pushes himself upright, the blankets falling away from his body. “I’ll check we have everything. You go and get Ryou, then meet me downstairs, alright?”

“Sure thing.” As I slide out of bed, I notice, for the first time since my initiation, that my back isn’t hurting at all. Usually I would be stiff and sore upon waking, but now I feel loose and supple, as if I had no scars at all. It must have been the massage Bakura gave me last night. Oh…it’s amazing. I might have to ask him to do that more often.

Ryou is _not_ a morning person at all. He’s such a heavy sleeper that I practically have to shove him out of bed to wake him, and even then, he barely acknowledges the fact that he’s half lying on the floor. Muttering grumpily under his breath as he gets to his feet, he resembles Bakura in this moment more than I ever thought he could. I give his back a quick rub to loosen the stiffness in his scars, and he perks up a little. “Is Tou awake?” he asks me as he stifles a yawn.

“Yeah, he’s up,” I reply. “All ready to go?”

“I think so,” he smiles, searching for his clothes. “Scary, isn’t it? We’re finally striking out in the big bad world on our own.”

“I think you’ve been doing that since you came to Amarna,” I tell him.

“I guess, but this is different. We’re joining the fight properly now.”

“Mm, I suppose. But you’ll be fine. You and Bakura are good fighters, and smart.” I pause for a moment, watching Ryou potter around his room, gathering up the few possessions and trinkets he owns. “Ryou…” I say tentatively, “did your magic ever come back? If we’re on the road, it’s going to get dangerous, and if you can’t defend yourself the way you’re used to…”

Ryou grimaces. “I hadn’t really given it much thought, but you’re right.”

“Is it worth trying again?”

I don’t want to push him, but I also don’t want him dying out there. Amane’s death was a shock to his system and we weren’t sure at the time if he would ever fully recover his powers. But now he appears to be considering the situation with mild curiosity, flexing his fingers as if he can feel the magic flowing through them again. A tiny spark flickers at the end of his index finger, and he smiles softly. “That’s a start.”

“A really good start,” I agree. “Don’t push yourself, though.” I get up from his bed and make for the door. “See you downstairs?”

“I won’t be long,” he replies. I nod at him and head off back to my room to dress, then go downstairs two at a time.

Bakura, dressed and with his hair brushed back, is busily flitting about the living room, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth as he locates the final few items we need. Yuji is awake, sat in an armchair with a whetstone, honing the edge of one of Bakura’s daggers. He looks up and gives me a little smile as I approach to help Bakura. “It’s going to be strange not having you guys around,” he says softly. “You’ll have to come back at some point to say hi. We’re all going to miss you here.”

“Miss me? Not likely,” Bakura growls through a mouthful of toast. “I’m the sister-killer around here now. Sure, I’ll pop back in to indulge you, and I’ll even bring you Zorc’s head if you like, but I won’t be sticking around for anyone that wants to make me feel guilty. Hell, I feel guilty enough, I don’t need the trouble.”

“I know, Kura. No pressure. It would just be nice to know you’re safe.”

“If I die out there, so be it. I’ll have done my bit.”

“Don’t say that,” I frown, folding my arms. “Nobody is dying out there.”

“Can’t guarantee anything, Marik.”

“Hopeless,” I sigh.

Ryou joins us a few minutes later, helping to finalise our preparations. We eat and drink hurriedly, then Ryou and I head over to the stables to fetch our new horses, while Bakura and Yuji go to get Cleo. We agree to meet by the orchard in an hour’s time.

Ryou is quiet as we walk, hands in his pockets and a little frown creasing his pale brow. His scars cause him to walk with a slightly stooped gait, and he rolls his shoulders back periodically and stretches his neck to try and straighten up. “Everything okay?” I ask him.

He flicks his deep brown eyes over to me. “I’m just mulling something over,” he replies softly. “May I tell you what’s bothering me?”

“Of course.”

He stops walking, and I stop as well. He turns to face me fully, reaching a hand out to poke me in the chest, not hard, but enough to make me wince slightly. “I’ve been sensing a darkness in you for a while now,” he says. “It’s not _you,_ but it’s _inside_ you. I can tell that you’re not governed by this darkness, but it’s there, and it’s worrying me a little.”

“A…darkness?” I ask tentatively. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Have you ever felt like you’ve lost control? Or there’s a flood of emotion that isn’t quite right?” Ryou’s eyes bore into mine, as if searching for answers there.

Hold on…I cast my mind back to my first sparring session with Bakura. The details are hazy, but I remember a burst of uncontrollable rage, a desire to slit his throat and revel in his bloody demise. That isn’t me at all…I’d never do that. So why did it happen? And why did I black out afterwards?

“The sparring…” I whisper, feeling my eyes widen.

“Yes, that’s when I first sensed it,” Ryou says with a nod. “I didn’t know what it was back then, but after a few days I realised it felt similar to what went through me when I was tainted by the shadows in Kul Elna. You haven’t been angry since then, but - ”

I gasp. “Wait.”

“What?”

“I…I think this has happened before.”

“How so?”

I sit down heavily on a low, crumbling wall, holding my head in my hands. “When I…when I killed my father, I felt the same way. The rage building up, that wouldn’t leave unless I sated it with blood. Afterwards, I felt nothing, but before that, all I wanted was his death. I might have blacked out then, I don’t know. It’s all a little fuzzy. But I do know that I wasn’t myself when I did it.”

Ryou looks grave. “Are you a danger to anybody? To yourself?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I raise my head. “What do you think?”

“I think…” Ryou kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his own. “I think that you’re a good person, and you would never willingly hurt anybody. This darkness though…it worries me. It needs to manifest somehow, or it could destroy you. Mine came out as magic power…maybe yours is the same, or it could be completely different. I think I might be able to force it out of you, or at least find out what it is. Whatever happens, I’ll take full responsibility.”

I look down at him, this sweet, beautiful young man who has seen so much sadness in his life, and marvel at his kindness, his willingness to help just about anyone, even someone as screwed up and dead inside as me. If he can sense something amiss, it must be serious…so I nod, entrusting this hidden danger to him. He smiles warmly and squeezes my hands. “Okay. Later, then. Right now, we’ve got some distance to cover.” He stands, tugging me up with him. “Come on. Let’s go and get those horses.”

* * *

 Amie and Isis are a joy to ride, incredibly easy-going girls who enjoy a good rub on the nose. Ryou and I guide them carefully through the dusty town streets, getting to know the feel of them and their general temperament. It’s nice to have a real sense of ownership over something, something I know I will take good care of.

The sun is rising now, bathing the horizon in a dusky blush. It will be time for us to leave soon. Time for me to leave this place behind, the place that took me in and gave me hope for a future out of the darkness. It’s bittersweet, but I’m striking out on my own now, and that…that feels good. I like this feeling. I want it to stay.

“Can you still sense my…darkness?” I ask Ryou.

He squints at me, seemingly thinking hard. He murmurs something under his breath in a language I don’t understand, then he shakes his head. “No, not at the moment. It comes and goes. Maybe it’s dependent on your mood or thoughts?”

“You think so?”

“Possibly. Try thinking of something that stirs up a lot of emotion in you, and I’ll try again.”

Well, that’s easy. I think of Bakura.

His sarcastic smirk. The way he flicks back his hair. The warmth of his soft breaths on my skin. The feel of his lips brushing against my own.

An unfamiliar, burning heat sears through my loins and I have to shift to readjust myself, suddenly rather uncomfortable. What…what on earth is this feeling?

Ryou’s staring at me again, that odd language rolling from his tongue. “Yeah…there it is,” he says. “It’s seeping into your heart, almost as if it wants to take your feelings for itself…I would say it’s definitely set off by a surge of emotion. What were you thinking about?”

My cheeks are heating up. I shake my head, unsure of whether I should say anything. Ryou bursts out laughing. “Marik! You’re blushing!”

“Oh, man, um…”

“Relax. I’m not going to pry, if it was something embarrassing.”

I guess he deserves to know. I don’t want to hide anything from my friend. Nevertheless, I can’t help but let my face be obscured by my hair. “I was thinking of your brother.”

Peeking up through my fringe, I see that Ryou barely reacts at all. How typical. I’m getting that odd, fluttering feeling in my stomach that I think might be nerves, but on his end, he’s looking at me like I just told him grass is green. But then he smiles, a true, warm smile that soothes my flutters. “I knew it,” he laughs. “You’ve been so close recently. It would be weird if there _wasn’t_ something sparking between you two now.” He leans down to pat Amie’s head, still smiling. “Okay, _now_ I have to be nosey. Has anything happened? You’ve been sleeping in each other’s’ beds for weeks, after all.”

My cheeks are definitely burning now!

“Last night, we…we realised there was something between us, and…he kissed me.”

A look of pure glee crosses Ryou’s face. “Amazing!” he crows. “Oh, my heart! Marik, you have no idea how happy that makes me!”

“Why?”

“I dunno, I’m just a sucker for sweet stuff, and it’s about time Tou started to settle down and see a guy as more than just a bedmate. He’s never allowed anyone to get close to him, so for him to let you in like that, you must really be special to him.”

“I felt sort of bad that it happened in Yuji’s house, though.”

Ryou waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. Yuji was a little upset at first that my brother was pushing him away, but I think he realised that they work better as friends. Believe me, he’s well over Tou, and he likes you, so there’s no hard feelings.”

How good it feels, to be able to just unload everything that I’ve been holding in. Ryou is so understanding, so calm, it’s easy to tell him anything. It makes me wonder about this darkness, though. What it is, and why it’s inside me, and why it flares up in response to emotion. Why can’t I feel it? What is its potential?

The rest of the ride to the orchard is spent in silence. The approach must be difficult for Ryou, knowing that this is his last chance to visit his sister before we depart. I suppose Bakura must be feeling the same way. I should keep my distance and let them say their farewells in peace. We dismount, and I tether the horses, then step back to give Ryou space.

Bakura is already at the orchard, kneeling formally in front of Amane’s grave with his hands folded in his lap and head bowed. Yuji isn’t anywhere to be seen. I guess he had the same thought I did about keeping his distance.

Ryou joins Bakura, laying a hand on his shoulder as he settles down in the same kneeling position. “You okay?” I hear him ask softly.

Bakura nods ever so slightly. “If we do come back…it’s for her. Nobody else.”

“Of course.”

“Ryou…do you think she would forgive me?”

“Don’t be silly, Touzo. Amane loved you. She’d never have seen what happened as your fault. The only person who needs to forgive is yourself.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I know…and I won’t force you. But please, brother…don’t let this guilt continue to hurt you.” Ryou brushes his fingers over Amane’s headstone, and I can’t see his face from where I’m standing, but I imagine he looks wistful, sad. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to wallow in self-pity for her death. This is a dangerous world. Any one of us could have been in her place. I’m not asking you to move on, or forget these feelings, but just to be a little easier on yourself. Me and Marik, we’re here for you, okay?”

Bakura raises his head, and I just about hear him chuckle. “Great. Two kids trailing after me like sappy puppies, checking up on me all the time.”

“Shut up, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You shut up.”

They share a laugh together, then Bakura sighs and puts his arm around Ryou, kissing his temple. Ryou leans against his brother, nuzzling him affectionately. “We’re going to be alright,” Bakura murmurs. “I’ll get past my guilt somehow, and you’ll get your magic back.”

“I managed a spark earlier this morning,” Ryou replies. “Maybe I should try again?”

“Might as well, before we go.”

“Okay. You’d best stand back.”

Bakura releases Ryou and stands, looking over his shoulder and spotting me. A brief flicker of surprise crosses his face, then he smiles and come to stand beside me, leaning against a tree and folding his arms. “I’ve never prayed,” he tells me, “but right now, I’m praying for a fucking miracle. What do you reckon?”

“I think he can do it,” I reply, flashing Bakura my own smile.

Ryou turns to us, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and amusement. He stands alone in the orchard, clasping his hands together as if he imitates Bakura’s prayer. His eyes slide closed and the familiar chanting begins, a soft rolling of melody that flows around him like leaves on the breeze. I can almost feel the swirling energy coalescing in the air.

Then his fingers point skywards, his head bows, and he brings his hands round to rest his palms in the small of his back. Light radiates across his form, and the occasional shudder makes his body quiver, but besides that, he remains still, chanting away, eyes remaining closed.

“Is he trying to heal his scars?” I ask Bakura.

“The fuck do you think?”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question.”

Bakura looks sideways at me and bares his teeth in an amused grin. “I’m just messing with you.”

After a few minutes, Ryou’s chanting stops, and he exhales heavily, leaning against a tree for support. Bakura dashes forward, helping him stand upright. “You idiot!” he growls. “You overworked yourself, didn’t you?”

Ryou’s panting with exertion, but he looks overjoyed. “No,” he whispers. “I’ve…I’ve got more power. So much more power than I used to have…this is so cool! Tou, I feel so strong! Like I could do anything!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now,” Bakura scolds gently. “Let me see your back.”

Ryou pulls his shirt off over his head, and both Bakura and I gasp. The marks of the fire are still etched deep into his skin, but they’re paler, smoother, much less painful-looking. They blend in more with his snow-white skin, much less remarkable. Ryou’s hands scrabble round to feel, and tears well in his eyes. “They’re…” he whispers.

“Still there, but you did a good job,” Bakura murmurs.

“Well done,” I smile. “I knew you could do it.”

“One more test!” Ryou’s eyes light up, suddenly looking rather cheeky. He steps back, snaps his fingers and waves his hand towards his brother. Moments later, a violent gust of wind buffets him, sending his hair flying around his face. Ryou collapses in a fit of laughter, clutching his ribs. “I’ve still got it!” he giggles.

“You bastard,” Bakura hisses, trying to tame his hair. “First that lightning demon and now this. No more threats, I am fucking cutting my hair off, and soon.”

Through his giggles, Ryou stands, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. He reaches for Bakura and pulls him into a friendly hug, resting his chin on top of Bakura’s head. Both of them gaze towards Amane’s grave, taking in the last they’ll see of her for a while.

Watch over us, Amane. Watch over this town. I hope we’ll make you proud.

I’ll look after your brothers, as you looked after me.

And for giving Ryou the strength to claim his powers again…thank you.

It’s time for us to go now, but please wait just a little while. We’ll be back before you know it, and hopefully the world will be a better place by then.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_This chapter introduces Yami Marik, or Kek, as he will be called. I checked in with Sitabethel before using the name, as it's in their work that I saw the name being used a lot, and it works so well that I asked to be able to use it myself._ **

* * *

North…we’ve not been this far before. Sure, a little way, when we took the job in Minya, but we cover a lot more ground today, following the Nile closely and racing past Minya and more. By the time the sun is setting low in the sky, we’ve covered at least 16 leagues, though I stopped counting after a time. There are faded old signs here and there, telling and directing, but they’re difficult to make out. In any case, Bakura seems to have an idea of where we should be going. Following the Nile makes it easier enough, but having the second sense of location from Bakura is reassuring.

We make camp close to the river’s banks. We didn’t run into any trouble on the road, so we decided this would be an appropriate place to spend the night. Ryou wanders off to hunt, while Bakura and I clear the area, set up tents, and build a fire. He’s apprehensive, putting together the stones and firewood, and I can see in his eyes that he’d rather be elsewhere. By the time Ryou returns with a dead rabbit in his hands, Bakura has retreated as far away as he can manage, watching his brother silently as he kneels down and snaps his fingers, igniting the fire to a warm, burning glow instantly. I’d go to him, but from the look on his face, he’d rather be left alone. So I help Ryou with the food instead, gutting, skinning and cleaning the rabbit. It’s nasty work, and more than once I feel my stomach threatening to spill its contents. Somehow, I hold strong, and we soon have the meat cooking over the fire while Ryou mixes flour and water together, making a rudimentary sort of bread to go with it.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” I ask him. “You know, being out in the open and living off the land? You had your house, and supplies, and – ”

“I don’t mind at all,” Ryou smiles. “Tou and I have done this countless times over the years together on jobs and such. It’s fun. I like the thrill of having to fend for myself in ways I didn’t have to back in Amarna.” He waves his hand at the darkening landscape. “Don’t you think there’s a strange sort of beauty in it? So raw and primal, but beautiful all the same. I love it out here. The demons and the bandits and heaven knows what else are just like pieces on the game board. Move myself, move them, take them down, I win.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You are a strange man, Ryou.”

“I am indeed.”

Bakura joins us again after a few hours, when the rabbit meat sizzles and spits, sending a tempting aroma into the air. He regards the fire nervously, but pulls himself close to me and winds his arms around one of my own, resting his head on my shoulder. I can see that Ryou is trying not to pay too much attention, but his eyes keep flickering up to us as I stroke Bakura’s hair and murmur soft words of comfort to him. It feels odd, being this soft and gentle with anybody, even Bakura, who I feel close to. I guess it’s just instinct. He’s scared, still grieving for his sister’s death, and I want to help him.

It’s simple, it’s nothing special, but the rabbit meat and bread is filling and tastes good. Bakura eats quickly and then retreats into his tent without a word, leaving just Ryou and I sat on opposite sides of the crackling fire.

“So,” he smiles, “should I see what I can do about this darkness?”

“Hm?” I take a bite of my food and dab at my mouth with my fingers, frowning.

“What we discussed earlier?”

“Oh, of course. Yeah, um…if it isn’t too much trouble for you, then please feel free. You know more about this than I do.”

“Finish eating, and we’ll get started.”

I nod, tossing the last of the bread into my mouth. I help Ryou clear away the rabbit skins and any other mess, then he shifts to sit opposite me, taking my hands in his own and closing his eyes. “I’m just feeling out for it now,” he says quietly. “I’m going to try and make contact, see if there’s any sentience to it.”

“Okay,” I nod, wondering whether I should be getting nervous or uneasy. Ryou’s peculiar familiarity with the macabre should be unnerving, and yet the aura of calm he gives off constantly is almost infectious.

Ryou suddenly grins, his hands squeezing mine. “Oh, hey. Here we are…I’ve found it. Hmmm…it feels like you, but not you at the same time…I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but…”

Then he scowls, biting his lip. “How odd.”

“What?” I ask.

“I didn’t expect your darkness to feel so…human. I thought it would manifest as an explosion of power, like mine did, but this…I’ve never felt anything like this before.” His brown eyes snap open, locking onto mine. “Marik, please may I put a hand on your chest? I think I can connect with it better that way.”

Silently, I nod, removing my hands to undo the first few buttons on the loose purple shirt I’m wearing. Ryou’s fingers are cold despite the warmth of the fire, and I can’t help the little shiver that runs through me at his touch. That little frown continues to knit his brow, deep in concentration. This time, he doesn’t speak. I’m not sure where to look, to be honest. I know we should be keeping a look out for bandits or anything seeking to do us harm, so I start turning my head this way and that, observing our surroundings.

After a few minutes, Ryou speaks again. “It’s human,” he whispers, “and it does what you can’t. It’s your defence mechanism, your way of coping. It’s confused, wondering why it’s in contact with the outside world when you’re calm.” He pulls his hand away to scratch his head, looking a little confused himself. “I…don’t know what it really is. It could be a spirit, or a dream, or something else entirely, I really have no idea. All I know is it wants to be free.”

A human darkness inside me? What on earth could this mean? Why is it there? And what does Ryou mean, it does what I can’t?

My mouth moves before my brain can come to a decision. “Can you exorcise it?”

He gives a half-nod. “I can try. It might be uncomfortable. Can you take it?”

“I can try,” I echo.

Ryou takes my hands again. An eerie chill seems to settle around our makeshift campsite, seeping into my very bones and making me shudder with a mixture of unpleasant anticipation and curious thrill. The very air darkens around us, as if matching the darkness Ryou wants to pull from within me.

He begins to chant under his breath, barely a whisper, and almost instantly I feel a tugging sensation behind my sternum. I force myself to sit and bear it. The tugging becomes stronger and stronger, almost battering against me in an attempt to free itself, and I clutch at Ryou’s hands, staring to pant from the discomfort.

It…it hurts. It _hurts._ I begin to shake, feeling like I’m losing control of my body.

Then the rage seeps in. It devours every inch of my sanity faster than I can process, before I can warn Ryou to stop.

I’m…

No…

I…I can’t hurt him…no!

But…it would be so easy…

I have so many weapons I could use to end his miserable life…

But which one?

I can’t! I can’t!

“R-Ryou - !” I choke.

I see the shocked look on his face, feel his hands pull away, but blackness swallows me whole and my body explodes with pain. Someone’s screaming, but I don’t know if it’s me, Ryou, or the darkness fighting to get free. There’s nothing I can do, I’ve completely lost control of myself, with only my thoughts partly intact.

Oh god. I can’t…do this…it hurts so much!

The screaming is hurting my ears. Everything is agony. Am I dying? Did we go too far?

I black out completely before I can wonder any further.

* * *

 I’m aware of arms around me when I come to, warmth seeping into my skin. Rapid, ragged breaths puff against my ear, and I realise after a few moments, from the scent of musky cologne and cigarette smoke, that Bakura is holding me close to his chest. Feeling disoriented, I slide my hands up to grip his bare shoulders, trying to push myself upright, but he only shakes his head and draws me closer. “Stop moving around,” he says, and I hear panic in his voice. “Stay still.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice a harsh croak.

“You were screaming,” Bakura says quietly, “then you passed out. I came out to see what was going on, and…”

I try to push myself away again, to stand up and look around, ask Ryou what happened, but Bakura grabs me and yanks me back down. At the same time, an unknown voice speaks. Unknown, yet so familiar at the same time.

“You heard him. Stop moving around.”

My head whips around, so fast I feel the bones crack.

A young man kneels by the fire. He looks like me, with the same skin tone, angular facial features, and lavender eyes, but that’s where the similarity ends. Even kneeling down, I can see he’s incredibly tall and broad, built like rough-hewn rock, all hard muscle and sinew. His hair, while a similar shade to mine, spikes out wildly around his face, a dramatic mess of coarse fibres like straw. A deep purple cloak covers his shoulders, concealing the rest of his body, save for his arms, free and shining against the firelight.

Ryou sits in front of him. One of the stranger’s hands is on his shoulder, and the other holds one of my daggers, pressing it to Ryou’s throat.

A fearful shock runs through me and I yell out, jerking away from Bakura, reaching out for Ryou. “Stay back!” the stranger growls, pulling Ryou backwards. If Ryou is scared, or worried, he doesn’t show it. How is he so calm? A bead of blood rolls down his neck, staining his shirt. Bakura shivers as he keeps a tight hold on me.

“I’m sorry,” Ryou murmurs. “When you passed out, I panicked and tried to seal the darkness back inside, but I was too flustered and it came out. I tried to seal it again, but, um…as you can see…it has its own body now, and…”

“Quiet,” the stranger orders.

“Who _are_ you?” I ask.

The stranger grins maniacally at me. “I’m you, of course. _I’m_ your darkness. I’m the one that’s been taking all your emotions. Thank you for those, by the way. They’ve made me very strong, but very fucked up at the same time. Living inside you was absolute hell.” He runs my dagger upwards, tracing Ryou’s cheek with it. “And as for this little one…who brought me into the world…I’m going to sate my bloodlust on him if you make even one single movement towards us.”

Ryou glances up at him. “Well, that doesn’t seem very logical. Aren’t you grateful?”

“For dragging me into this wasteland? Maybe. Seems like there’s a lot of demons running around here. I could have some fun with those, but killing you seems like more fun right now.”

“That’s a shame,” Ryou replies. “I’ve never had the chance to get to know a creature of darkness before. Why don’t you indulge me before you slit my throat?”

“Ryou!” Bakura gasps. “What are you doing?”

But his words seem to have an effect. The stranger lowers the dagger, resting it in Ryou’s lap, but he keeps a firm grip on it. “Why aren’t you scared?” he asks.

“Should I be?”

“I had a knife to your throat.”

“I’ve had worse. Will you let me go, please? I promise I won’t run away or scream.” Ryou flashes the stranger a bright smile. I have to give him credit, he’s doing an incredible job of trying to placate the stranger. I can feel one of Bakura’s hands sliding down my body, reaching into my clothes in an attempt to locate another of my daggers. I stop him with a hand on his wrist. “Wait,” I whisper.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he whispers back urgently. “Ryou’s in danger!”

“I…don’t think he is. Somehow I know he’s got this under control.”

The stranger releases Ryou with a scowl, and he swings himself around, dabbing at the blood on his neck with his sleeve. “I wondered what was tickling me,” he laughs. “Okay, now you’re not holding a dagger to me, I want to ask you some questions. What’s your name?”

The stranger’s scowl changes to a frown. “I’m Marik.”

“No, _that_ is Marik.” He gestures towards me. “You might have come from Marik, but you’re not him.”

“I don’t have a name then. And I don’t need one, and you certainly don’t need to know it if I’m going to kill you soon.”

Bakura’s grip on me tightens again. He must be itching to spring up and dispatch my darkness, but one wrong move and he might be the only one left out of his siblings. So he just stays with me, holding me tightly, shivering.

“How old are you?” Ryou asks the stranger.

“Eight.”

Ryou laughs, amused. “I’ve never seen an eight-year-old that looks like you!”

“He couldn’t handle it!” the stranger growls, pointing at me. “He couldn’t handle the torture, so I did! That was eight years ago! I was born then! Fuck you and your questions!”

I gasp. The torture…

This young man…this stranger…my darkness. He’s the one that killed my father, that tried to attack Bakura. He took the pain of my initiation when I couldn’t any longer. He’s…he’s everything I’m not. My other half.

The stranger chuckles at the look on my face, a peculiar laugh that sounds like his tongue clicking, a sort of _kekekeke_ sound. “Caught on, have you? Yes, I’m the one. Everything you’re thinking, that would be me.”

“What do you want?” I demand.

He shrugs. “Blood, mostly. Death would be nice too. You’ve imparted some rather brutal instincts in me.”

“You’re not killing my brother,” Bakura snarls.

“Calm down, Touzo,” Ryou says softly. “He isn’t going to hurt me.” He reaches out to the stranger, holding out his hand flat in a questioning gesture. After a few moments, the stranger wordlessly hands the dagger over, which Ryou tosses over to me, but the look in his eyes tells us not to approach just yet. Then he takes the stranger’s hands, the same way he did to me. The stranger flinches and growls, but doesn’t pull back. “You need a name,” Ryou tells him. “Every person needs an identity.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m going to give you a name anyway. Would you mind if I called you Kek?”

“Kek?”

“Yeah, like your funny little laugh. I like it. Kek suits you nicely.”

“Ryou, don’t go fucking naming it!” Bakura protests. “Are you seriously getting pally with something that wants to kill you?”

But to my surprise, my darker half nods. “Fine. Kek it is.”

“Nice to meet you, Kek,” Ryou beams. “Now, you say you’re eight, but physically you look around the same age as my brother, so let’s say you’re twenty-five, okay?”

Kek just looks confused. I can’t say I blame him. Ryou’s speaking to him like he’s known him for years, familiar and friendly. He really is an odd man indeed.

Ryou touches Kek’s cheek, his eyes wide. “You’re fascinating,” he whispers. “I’ve touched many a dark side in my time, but nothing like this.”

“I’m not your damn exhibition,” Kek mutters.

“I’d love to study you more. And you seem calm now, so how about you come with us tomorrow?”

_“WHAT?!”_ Bakura shoves me away and dives towards Ryou, grabbing his shoulders. “Are you _insane?!_ That thing is _not_ coming with us, do you hear me?”

“Sorry, Tou, but you don’t get to tell me what to do,” Ryou says firmly.

They start arguing heatedly, their voices rising. My eyes dart back and forth between them, but Kek remains fixed on Ryou, looking slightly panicked. He doesn’t seem to like their fighting, and he has no weapons now, so there’s nothing he can do to stop them. My fear long gone, I stand and walk towards them, tapping Kek on the shoulder and motioning for him to follow me a distance away, letting the brothers argue.

I sit down on a large outcrop of rock and wait for Kek to reach me. His cloak billows around him as he walks, revealing a black vest top and beige cargo pants beneath, and just about as much gold jewellery as I wear. I was right, he’s huge, towering over me by almost a foot, and I’m five feet ten, so I’m not exactly short. He stops in front of me and folds his arms. “What?” he demands.

I lean on my elbows, gazing at him with rapt curiosity. “You want blood?” I ask. “We’re on our way to join up with some demon hunting rebels. There’s plenty of blood there.”

Kek’s eyes light up. “Hmmm…interesting.”

“Do you think you can behave? If you can, then come with us, and you can find your place with the rebels. Stick with Ryou till then. He seems to handle you well. Not many would do that after being threatened with a knife to the throat. And he’s cute, I’m sure he can charm you into being a good boy.”

“Fuck you, I am _not_ good,” Kek growls.

“You’re me. I know what you can be.”

A little shiver runs through Kek at my words. “I don’t want to be you. I want to slit that boy’s pretty white throat and be on my merry way.”

“With no weapons?” I ask.

“I can find some. I’ll strangle all of you in the night and take every weapon on your person.”

“There’s more to life than death, Kek. I’ve been finding that out recently myself.” I pat the outcrop of rock, gesturing for him to sit with me. After some hesitation, he does, twitching his cloak out of the way and looking almost shy. “Everything you did was to protect me, so you could survive,” I tell him. “I don’t know if I can be grateful for it, but I’m alive because of you. That’s something, I guess.”

Kek’s eyes flicker over to Ryou and Bakura, whose argument has started to simmer down, but they’re still exchanging irritable words at each other in their native tongue, which I don’t understand a word of. “I was just a darkness in your heart,” Kek mutters, scratching his head, “and now I’m…a person. Real. All I know is violence and despair, so how the hell am I supposed to figure out my way in the world?”

“You’ll do it,” I reply. “When I came out of the tombs, I was confused, and didn’t know what my life would be either. But those two…they helped me in more ways than I can express. I don’t know how much you know about them, or how dormant you were inside me, but they’re good people.”

Kek nods. “Ryou, he’s…sweet.”

“He is.”

“And Touzo is a grumpy prick.”

“…Well, I can’t really argue with that. He’ll prefer you to call him Bakura, by the way, or Kura.” I touch his arm carefully, and he flinches, but stays put. “How do you feel?”

“Calm, but confused…and tired.”

“You should rest.”

“Where?”

“We have tents. If you _promise_ not to slit my throat, you can share with me.”

“…I want to share with Ryou.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do that.”

Our conversation is then interrupted by Bakura stomping over, grabbing my wrist, and dragging me back towards the campsite. “What’s the matter?” I ask him.

“Ryou’s taking first watch,” he replies, “and he can deal with that psychotic headcase on his own. I’m going to sleep, and you’re coming with me. I won’t let you be alone around that thing.”

Kek watches us go with a bemused expression.

* * *

 As Bakura pulls me into his tent, I see Ryou getting up to go over to Kek, his infectious smile back in place. Bakura secures the flap of his tent up and rounds on me, scowling heavily. “What were you doing?” he demands. “Why are you getting friendly with it? It just tried to kill my brother!”

I shake my head. “I don’t think he would have done,” I reply gently. “He’s scared. He doesn’t know where he is or what’s really going on. He just did what he’s driven to do…be violent.”

Bakura presses his forehead against mine, exhaling shakily. Our noses brush together, and I find I like it immensely. “You and Ryou won’t let up on this, will you? Is it coming with us?”

“He.”

“Fine, he.”

“And yes, I think so. Ryou wants to look after him. When we discussed my darkness this morning, he said he would take full responsibility for it. And you can see he’s utterly fascinated. Let him have his time with Kek. Really, Kura, I don’t think he means us any harm. He just has to adjust to having a body of his own and having full control over himself.”

“If he kills my brother, I will kill you myself, personally. I don’t care how I feel about you. If I wake up in the morning and find my brother’s throat cut, you will get the same treatment, do you understand?”

I laugh at his threat. “I understand.”

Our brows remain pressed together, but now Bakura’s hands begin threading through my hair, teasing my scalp. I close my eyes, enjoying the little tingles running down my spine. It feels so good when he touches me.

“Gods, I was so scared,” he whispers. “I came out of the tent, and you were passed out, and Ryou was fighting off that fucking shadow. I thought I’d lost you both. He overpowered it, but he was panicking, I could see it. When Kek got his own form, Ryou started laughing. It was so strange. He looked worried just a few moments prior, but now this _fucking massive figure_ was overpowering _him_ and putting your dagger to his throat, and all he could do was _laugh._ He told me to stay back, so I grabbed you and put distance between us. I knew if I made one bad move, Ryou would die.” He shudders, grabbing one of my hands and pressing it over his heart. It’s hammering madly, pounding against his ribs. “So when you two suddenly started acting all familiar with him, it terrified the hell out of me. How do you do it? Something scares me and I just freeze.”

I shrug. “Side effect of lacking a lot of emotion, I guess. I’m sorry I frightened you, Kura.” I can’t help but let my fingers gently stroke the skin of his bare chest. He feels soft and warm, but well-built, his muscles rippling under my touch. Bakura’s own eyes close and he sighs. That unfamiliar heat begins to build up inside me again, almost uncomfortably intense. It tells me to take more of Bakura, to run my hands all over him and drink in the delighted sounds he makes. What…what is this?

“Will you let me touch you?” I ask Bakura carefully.

His eyes snap open, exploring my face before he gives a tiny nod. I think he needs the distraction right now just as much as I do.

Slowly, my hands begin to wander over his tanned skin. Almost immediately, his eyes close again and his face falls into a blissful expression. I skim over his chest, tracing his collarbone and then down again, spreading both my hands flat over his pectorals and feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. After a few moments, I slide my hands down to his stomach, pressing against the rock-hard muscles of his abdomen. A silvery trail of hair runs down from his navel, not unlike the golden hair I have myself. I run my fingers through his trail, overcome with curiosity.

Bakura’s breath hitches, then he moans, soft and needy. The sound sends a deep tingle of pleasure between my legs, and I feel a warm throbbing down below. My hands pause as I ponder over what it is I’m feeling, what I’m doing, why Bakura is making such noises.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers. “Marik, don’t stop.”

I frown. “I…I feel strange.”

“How so?”

I gesture to the apex of my thighs, and he laughs. “You’ve never had an erection before?”

“No, I have. I know what that is, but…the feeling that’s come along with it, I’ve…I’ve never felt.” I drop my hands to my knees. “It’s hot, and urgent, and makes me want to do things I’ve never wanted to do to anybody.”

Bakura smirks. He brushes his nose playfully against mine, then leans in, kissing me, long, deep and slow. His tongue teases my lower lip and slips into my mouth, making me shudder. We didn’t kiss like this last night, content with gentle brushes of our lips, but this…this ignites something primal in me, something I didn’t know even existed. My hands grab his shoulders and I pull him closer, letting my own tongue dab out to twine around his.

Bakura pulls away after a few moments. “Lust,” he says quietly. “It’s lust.”

“Lust?” I ask.

“Mm.” Bakura nods his head. “Sexual desire. You’ve not felt anything like that before?”

“No. Is it normal?”

“Very normal, and particularly if you’re attracted to someone.” He presses another kiss to my lips. “Want to find out more?”

I do. I really do. But I’m wary of Ryou and Kek outside, glancing over my shoulder, even though I know they can’t see us. Bakura seems to understand my concerns, and he flashes me his usual smirk again. “Don’t worry about them. Ryou knows better than to bother me when I’ve got a hot guy on his own.”

My eyes widen. “He won’t mind?”

“He told me earlier that you told him about us.”

“When?”

“When we were arguing.”

“Oh, that explains it. I don’t know your native language.”

“I’ll teach you at some point,” Bakura grins. “So…again…do you want to find out more?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_So it turns out that writing an emotionless character is difficult as hell. I'm doing my best, but to be honest, it's easier to think of Marik as a bit confused rather than lacking any feelings by this point._ **
> 
> **_Oh, and yeah, the explicit stuff starts from here. Have fun!_ **

* * *

“I…I…”

My words seem to stick in my throat, but I manage to nod my assent. Bakura chuckles softly and takes my hands, placing them back on his stomach. “As you were, Marik.”

“What should I do?” I whisper.

“Whatever you like.”

An involuntary tremor runs through me. I realise that I’m excited, eager. I _want_ to touch Bakura. I want to explore his body and see how he reacts.

I begin stroking Bakura’s stomach again, watching his face intently. His eyes flutter closed and he leans back, relaxing and opening up more skin for me to touch. His abs flex as he moves, and I follow them with gentle brushes of my fingers. Upwards, upwards my fingers climb, till they skim over his ribs, feeling the rigid bones beneath his warm skin. Bakura shudders, making my hands slip further upwards. A finger brushes over his nipple and he suddenly throws his head back, gasping. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Do that again.”

I do, with both hands, using my thumbs to carefully tease him. I never realised that this could be a sensitive spot for a man. But Bakura seems to love it. I can feel him tensing and quivering in response, quiet groans tumbling from his mouth. His nipples toughen into little peaks beneath my thumbs and the throbbing in my trousers becomes ever more urgent.

“Can I kiss?” I ask.

“Yes,” Bakura breathes. When I lean in and press my lips over his sternum, he bites down on his knuckles, uttering a soft moan. Carefully, I meander over to one nipple, kissing around it, letting my lips drag over his heated skin and feeling the vibrations of his gasps in his chest.

When we kissed using our tongues, it felt amazing. I wonder if the same would apply if I used my tongue now. I’m going to try it…I poke my tongue out and give a single, slow lick to Bakura’s nipple. The reaction is instantaneous. His back arches, his free hand digs into the bottom of the tent, and he groans my name in a throaty voice. Emboldened, I continue, lapping at his skin, relishing the intimacy, the closeness he’s allowing me.

He’s all out panting by the time I move to his other nipple, using my fingers to stimulate the first. The sight of Bakura writhing in pleasure before me is something I’m not likely to ever forget. He’s so beautiful, with his hair tumbling down his naked back and the way he’s still biting down on his hand to muffle his noises.

I trail my mouth down, kissing Bakura’s toned stomach, licking down the defined lines of his abs. I dip my tongue playfully in his navel, making him squirm. “For someone who has no idea what lust is, you seem awfully sure of what you’re doing,” Bakura chuckles.

“I’m just…I don’t know, going off instinct,” I murmur. “Am I doing okay?”

“Holy fuck, yes. Don’t you dare stop.”

His breathy command makes my cheeks heat up. He really _wants_ me to do all this to him. How far will he let me go?

The little trail of hair from Bakura’s navel is soft against my nose as I continue kissing downwards. His breath catches in his throat when I begin to unbutton his indigo cargo pants, letting my fingers play along each button like they were toys in their own right. Bakura watches me with half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily, his stare dark and seemingly devouring me whole, and if the tenting beneath the fabric of his pants is any indication, he’s as stiff and aroused as I am.

I know what my cock is there for, but everything I know applies to a man being with a woman. I haven’t the slightest clue about anything that might help me where two men are concerned, and as for exploring myself, I’ve never felt the urge to act on any impulses, given that I only found out what lust was a few minutes ago. So I’m a little unsure of myself now, how to go about doing anything with Bakura. And yet, I want to. In an odd way, I’m having fun. I gaze up at him through my hair and smile as I hook my fingers into the waistband of his pants. “Will you show me what to do?” I ask.

“Depends _what_ you want to do,” he replies in an amused tone.

“I…don’t really know.”

Bakura lifts his hips up, allowing me to start pulling his cargo pants down and off. “I guess we’ll just start with the basics.”

Whatever the basics are, I’ve got a sizeable amount of flesh to practice on. I’ve slept in the same bed as Bakura countless times, but he always wears loose trousers to sleep in, so I’ve not seen him naked till now. That little trail from his navel runs down and terminates in a neat patch of iron-grey hair, nestled at the base of his impressive length. He’s…big. Bigger than anything I saw on the other men in the tombs when we washed ourselves.

Bakura gives me his usual smirk as he watches me simply staring at his beauty. “Cat got your tongue?” he asks playfully.

“I-I…” I stammer, shaking my head. “Kura, I…you’re so gorgeous.”

He fakes a blush, hiding his eyes with his hand. “You’re too kind.”

I’m suddenly rather aware of the fact that I’m fully clothed, and yet, I’m the one that feels exposed. With shaking hands, I begin unbuttoning my shirt. Bakura frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Levelling the playing field,” I reply.

Bakura chuckles at that, and rises up onto his knees, kissing me deeply while swatting my hands away to work on the rest of the buttons. As I pull the shirt off my shoulders, he gets to work on the dagger sheaths strapped to my waist, laying them aside and then swiftly tugging off the black vest I wear underneath the sheaths, to protect my skin from the rubbing of the worn leather. His hands slip downwards, tugging my jeans open with ease and yanking them down along with my boxers; I let out a gasp as the cool night air hits my burning need.

We tumble, both nude, still kissing, down onto the fur-lined blanket Bakura sleeps under. Bakura removes a hand from my hair in order to turn down a corner of the blanket, then rolls us over so he can cover us both up. I end up on top of him, his smooth thighs squeezing my hips and his cock rubbing against mine. Pleasure explodes through my body. I’ve never felt anything this good, and I have to pull away from Bakura’s lips to pant raggedly into the crook of his neck. “Is this…the basics?” I ask breathlessly.

Bakura laughs into my hair. “No,” he admits, “but you threw that idea straight out of the fucking window when you started undressing.”

“What should I do?”

“Whatever feels natural.”

“Is…going all the way…natural?”

“I wouldn’t advise it. I’m out of lube at present,” Bakura smirks. He rocks his hips upwards ever so slightly and I gasp against his warm skin, gripping his shoulders. “How about that?”

“It feels good,” I murmur.

“You try it.”

I do, scooping my hips into his and upwards, and Bakura rewards me with a soft moan, digging his hands back into my hair to pull me down to his greedy lips. We rock against each other, grasping, kissing, moaning, losing ourselves to burning desire.

Surely Ryou can hear us. But I can’t stop. It’s all just too good. Bakura is so warm and pliant against me, clearly more submissive than he wants to let on, and the sound of his ragged gasps and groans is music to my ears. To think it’s _me,_ giving this beautiful creature pleasure…my head is spinning and I feel dizzy, but still, I can’t stop…I can’t…oh, damn, I’m…I’m - !

I think I stop breathing for a few seconds. It’s like I died briefly, and when I come to, everything seems brighter, more intense, and my body is tired, so tired. Trying to catch my breath, I realise I’m a little sticky, and I look down at our bodies to see the translucent fluid smeared across Bakura’s stomach and the stray droplet rolling down the head of my now softening cock. “W-What just happened?” I ask quietly.

“You came,” Bakura laughs. “Oh my god, you honestly didn’t know that would happen?”

“…No.”

“Sorry, Marik. I’m not laughing at _you._ I just love how naïve you are. It’s so fucking cute.”

“I am _not_ cute.” My whole face feels like it’s burning.

“Hey, calm down. It’s fine. Stop being so embarrassed, you dork.”

“Why hasn’t it happened to you?”

“I’ve not finished yet,” Bakura replies. With a wry smile and a wink, he swirls a finger into the mess on his stomach and brings it up to his lips, sucking the fluid off. I get the feeling it should be gross, but the sight of him twirling his tongue around the sodden digit turns out to be incredibly erotic. “It wouldn’t be fair to leave me hanging now, would it, Marik? Do I get to finish too?”

“Um…do you need to clean up first?”

“Mm…I suppose so.” Bakura rolls onto his side and grabs his bag, pulling out a cloth, which he uses to mop up the congealing liquid. Then he turns back with a cheeky expression, raising his eyebrows at me. “I’m all yours, baby.”

Okay…so it’s stimulation that causes you to…did he say I “came?” Stimulation makes you “come.” But I feel incredibly sensitive down below and I don’t think I could tolerate us hiking our hips against each other again. What else can I do? Hmmm…

Ah, I know.

Bakura gives a rather un-Bakura-like squeak when I grab his hips and roll us over, switching our positions. With a few well-placed tugs and shifts, he ends up straddling my stomach, gazing down at me with what looks like wonder and surprise. I gaze back up at him, enjoying the flush spreading across his cheeks. “You really are beautiful,” I whisper. 

“You’re one to talk,” he grins.

I run my hands up Bakura’s thighs, mapping the warm flesh under my fingers. He squirms a little, closing his eyes. I trace along the crease at the top of his thigh, inching closer and closer to where I want to be the most. “Don’t tease me,” Bakura growls.

“Just getting familiar with you,” I smile. My hands finally brush against his cock and he gasps. His hands clench against my chest and his cheeks flush even darker as I begin stroking him, just dragging my fingers up and down, getting a feel for the pulsing flesh, enjoying the smoothness of his skin. Once I feel comfortable, I move one of my hands to caress Bakura’s thigh while the other closes fully around his cock and pulls upwards, slowly, carefully, just enough to gauge his reaction. His hips rock into my fist, as if he’s desperate for more sensation. “Faster,” he demands, digging his nails into my chest.

I comply, giving a little flick with my wrist every time I stroke upwards, and soon Bakura is pressing his face into the crook of my neck and gasping loudly. My free hand trails over his hips, his waist, dropping down to squeeze his backside. Every inch of him is warm, smooth, deliciously addictive. I could touch him forever if he let me.

“Is this okay?” I ask Bakura, nuzzling my nose into the delicate spot behind his ear.

He nods, but then grabs my wandering hand and shoves it lower, below his shaft. His balls had been grazing along my stomach with each jerk of his hips, but now my hand cups them, rolling them in my palm experimentally, and Bakura just about goes out of his mind. He pulls his head up to slam his mouth against mine, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and shuddering at the stimulation I’m giving him.

Suddenly, he bites down on my lower lip, then his body softens against me, a panting mass of hot skin and wild hair. Now I’m the one with sticky white stuff all over me, coating my stomach and my hand. It feels…sexy, to know I’ve brought Bakura to completion myself.

He rolls off me with a deep sigh, eyes closed and body relaxed. Curious, I lick a little of the white liquid off my fingers, finding it to be not wholly unpleasant, but certainly an acquired taste. I clean up and drop back under the thick blanket with Bakura; he drapes an arm over my waist and shifts his head forward so our brows press together. “Not bad,” he grins. “Not bad at all for a first timer.”

“Um, thanks?” I reply, chuckling. “It was pretty fun.”

“Mm…I could get used to this…” Bakura yawns, cuddling in closer.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, so I assume you’ll be getting used to it regardless.”

Bakura cracks open an eye. “This is all okay with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know…this. Us.”

“Oh. Oh, of course.” I smile and kiss the tip of Bakura’s nose. “You know I’m ignorant on all the details, but I know what a relationship is, and I guess that’s what we have, right?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what you want?”

Bakura frowns. “It’s hard…there’s danger around every corner. If I lost you, Marik…I don’t think I could ever let myself love anybody again. But I want us to stay like this, you know? Dammit, you make me so fucking soppy. I hate it.”

I love how easily embarrassed he gets. It’s hilarious to see the deep flush creep up his chest and neck to darken his cheeks. But I don’t tease him about it, just press another kiss to his nose, then his lips, and settle down into a more comfortable position. “Who’s taking watch after Ryou?”

Bakura shrugs. “I’ll do it. I’ll sit right outside the tent the whole time, so that fucking crazy alter ego of yours can’t get near you.”

“I think Ryou’s managed to tame him already, Kura. Stop worrying about it.”

Bakura grunts, clearly displeased, but he says nothing more. He shifts his head back a little and downwards, resting it against my shoulder, and the hand over my waist strokes my skin, tracing over my scars with a gentleness I never thought anybody would possess if they were to feel the horrors marring my flesh. But Bakura doesn’t seem to mind them at all. Rather, he acts as though he cherishes them. It’s deeply comforting, and the soft touch has me starting to drift off to sleep before I know it.

Gods, Bakura, you make me feel so much. I think you might be bringing me back to how I used to be. The carefree child who could laugh without restraint. The affectionate, loving young boy. That’s how I want to be again. Will it be easier, now I no longer have Kek in charge of delegating my emotions? He’s out to live his own life now…will it mean the same for me?

Time will tell, I suppose.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Sorry for the wait, people! I've finally managed to make a start on rewriting a few parts of the story. Here is the first part, which will be told from Ryou's perspective._ **

* * *

The look of fear in Tou's eyes...that really was something to behold. I stare after him as he pulls Marik into his tent, wondering what’s gotten into him.

Kek laughs at Tou’s retreating back. "I never had him down as such a fucking coward.”

"Hey, that's my big brother you're talking about," I chide gently.

"Yeah, yeah." Kek kneels in front of me, cloak billowing about his bulky form, and reaches a hand out to poke the side of my neck, where he'd held the knife to my skin. "Doesn't look sore. Bled a little, but no lasting damage."

It's a little surreal, seeing this huge, imposing spirit-turned-human that was intent on killing all of us, reduced to a soft, apologetic expression beneath a flutter of alluring lashes.

Oh god, did I really just...?

Dammit Ryou, get your brain out of your dick.

"It's okay," I smile down at Kek. "You were confused, and it’s pretty understandable.” I touch his cheek, a soft brush of fingers that has his eyes slipping closed. "Will you sit with me awhile? I'm going to take the first watch, but feel free to go to sleep whenever you get tired."

Kek nods, and stands up to sit beside me, twitching his cloak out of the way of the crackling fire. He gazes into its warm depths, the light glinting in the deep purple of his eyes. "I can leave in the morning. I'm a risk to you all, surely. I shouldn't be here."

I roll my own eyes, shaking my head. "Don't be stupid. I told Marik I'd accept full responsibility for whatever happened as a result of the exorcism, and I plan to stick to that. Besides, I'd never forgive myself if I knew you'd gone out into this wasteland on your own without being able to defend yourself."

Kek cocks a thick, dirty blonde eyebrow. "Can't defend myself, eh? You're forgetting I possess all Marik's knowledge of the weapons he uses, and his fighting style.”

“Oh, I suppose that’s true.”

A smug smirk twists the side of Kek’s face. “Plus...I have something Marik doesn't. Do you wanna see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. His eyes close, and he begins to move the fingers of his right hand in an undulating wave, up and down. Almost immediately, I feel the familiar pull of magic in the air, and a deep thrill sets my heart hammering. It’s so rare we come across anyone else who can use magic, save for Atem’s priests, and I only know _of_ them, rather than _know_ know them.

A dark, shadowy substance forms around Kek's fingers, shimmering and swirling, before he directs it towards the fire. The crackling flames douse instantly, and my mouth drops open in shock. A chill cuts through the air with the sudden lack of heat, making me pull my thick, oversized jumper around me a little tighter.

Kek laughs, tongue lolling out from side to side. “What do you think of _that,_ pipsqueak?”

 “Shadow magic…” I whisper. “Incredible…but how?”

“Beats me,” Kek shrugs. “I’ve just always had it, or felt like I’ve always had it, anyway. First time I’ve been able to actually use it myself.”

I snap my fingers and point towards the smouldering pile of wood before us, reigniting it and sighing at the warmth. “Would you like to spar?” I ask Kek. “With our magic, of course. It would be interesting to see how you wield it.”

Kek frowns at me. “Is that wise? I don’t think your brother would be very happy with me if I made you disappear.”

“I trust you.”

“I was holding a knife to your throat less than half an hour ago.”

“I’m often told I’m strange,” I shrug. “So? How about it?”

After a moment, Kek’s frown disappears, and he laughs once more. “Strange isn’t the right word for you! I love it. Alright then, why not. Have at me, snowflake.”

He truly is peculiar, this creature, so close to Marik in appearance, but with all the mannerisms and expressions Marik lacks. Kek smiles and cackles and twists his face into all manner of gestures that I don’t think we would ever see on Marik, who is always quieter, more contemplative, his face more of a mask than a theatre. It seems as though they’ll bounce off each other well, though…if Marik is able to trust him. Only time will tell, and that’s if Kek stays with us.

But I don’t want to think about that right now.

I want to have some fun with magic!

We stand on opposite sides of the fire, facing each other. Kek’s cloak swirls around him like the shadows he commands, and a laid-back, easy expression softens his sharp features. My heart is thudding in my chest from the anticipation, eager to get started and show him what I’m made of. Well, I’m sure he’ll have seen my spells from within Marik, but what the hey, let’s pretend this is his first time.

“Are you ready?” I ask, and Kek nods, grinning that ever-present grin of his. “Alright, then I’m going to fire a few spells at you. Then you can do the same with me. Sound good?”

“Sounds fucking brilliant.”

I conjure up a ball of fire in my hand, drawing energy from the crackling flames before us. I swirl my free hand around it, building up speed in the whirling ball of heat, faster, faster, faster…and then launch it at Kek, who deflects it with a slow flick of his fingers.

Trying to catch him off guard, I form a shard of ice, needle-sharp and frightfully cold, and quickly send it soaring towards him. I’m more on the mark this time, but Kek stops it a few inches from his face, sending it tumbling into the depths of his shadow magic. “Holy fuck, this is fun!” he laughs. “I feel so much power coming from you. It’s amazing! Keep going, snowflake, keep going.”

Time to up the ante!

With both hands now, I make my spells dance around each other, fire and ice, lightning and wind, water and earth. Kek brushes them off effortlessly, pure mirth radiating from him with every burst of gleeful laughter. We switch positions, and now Kek begins forming his shadow magic into twisted shapes that distort the air around them. When they fly my way, I feel the rippling darkness around them, distracting me and I barely manage to put my barrier up in time.

Kek cackles, doubled over and clutching his stomach. “Oh, my! I nearly _did_ make you disappear!”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I smile.

“Holy fuck, yes! Yes!” Kek shoots more magic, but I’m prepared this time, and snap up a more powerful barrier to push the spell back entirely, back towards Kek. He draws the swirling darkness back into his hands and rubs them together, as if brushing off dirt.

His eyes catch mine, and the sparkle in them makes me giggle as I rush over to him and latch onto his arm in what I hope he takes as a friendly hug. To my delight, he grins, lifting me up and poking my nose with his free hand before setting me down. “You’re pretty strong,” he remarks. “All that death in your village really fed your powers, huh?”

I frown, displeased. “I would have preferred it a different way, if I’m honest. Do you have all of Marik’s memories? Can you recall everything he can?”

“Mostly,” Kek says. Despite our bout of spellcasting only being short, I’m worn out and rather sweaty now, so I sit down again, and Kek joins me on the ground in a wide-legged crouch. “I only know what he’s known since the initiation,” Kek continues, “and I particularly seem to remember things that stirred up a lot of emotion within us. If you asked him, he’d probably find those same memories fuzzy, because I fed off them to keep myself alive inside him.”

“That’s fascinating.”

Kek shrugs. “I’m just a basket of surprises, I suppose.” I hand him a bottle of water from my bag and he leans his head back to drink deeply. “You’re not so bad yourself, pipsqueak.”

We fall into companionable silence, sipping water and nibbling on a few snacks that I brought from Amarna. Kek lies back on the dusty ground, drawing on the cracked, parched soil, while I take up my knife and begin sharpening it, keeping a careful eye out for danger. The dull scrape of whetstone over steel serves to muffle the rustling and soft moaning that I’ve been hearing from my brother’s tent for the last few minutes – oh, yes, I can certainly hear them alright! Tou has had a string of lovers over the years, and he’s always been terrible at keeping quiet in the bedroom. He’ll be embarrassed tomorrow, but I know I’ll be able to ask Marik and he’ll tell me everything with a completely straight face.

Kek doesn’t seem to have noticed, or if he has, he doesn’t care. He’s flat on his back now, arms behind his head and his eyes roving across the sky. The night is clear, with only a few sparse wisps of cloud drifting by.

“We never thought we would see the sky as a wide plain like this,” he whispers. I’m guessing the way he speaks, using “we,” must be from both his and Marik’s collective experiences. “In the tombs, there was a singular circle, like a well, cut into the ceiling, and you could see the outside from there. For so many years, we thought that that was it; just a circle above us. We didn’t know any better, until we found books that showed what it looked like on the outside.”

I point upwards, tracing a few stars with my finger. “Were there any books on constellations down there?” I ask, and Kek shakes his head, wrinkling his brow. “Constellations are like shapes in the sky,” I continue, “that you make using stars as a guide. Look, I’ll show you one…you see that star there, the bright one that’s a little pinkish?”

I point to guide Kek, and he follows my finger till he makes a noise of assent. With my free hand, I start scraping a rough drawing on the ground, swirling little circles to show where the stars would be. “You have to use your imagination a little to see them, but that pinkish star is the right shoulder, and then those three in a line are the belt…do you see?”

I’ve sketched out a person holding a sword aloft and a shield in front of his face – the hunter, Orion. Kek looks down at my crude drawing, then back up to the sky, then to the drawing, then to the sky. A goofy smile on his face, he begins to draw his finger in the air, tracing paths between the stars. “Amazing,” he whispers. “The outside world is amazing.”

“You look so happy, Kek.”

“Happy…” Kek snaps his head round to stare at me, eyes wide. “I felt so much pain and trauma from Marik…I guess I’ve never really been able to process what happiness felt like.”

My heart almost breaks for him, and for Marik. They’ve both been through so much. Kek reaches out a hand and drags me closer, pointing towards the stars again. “Show me more,” he demands.

With a laugh, I settle down beside him, starting to tell him about the celestial wonders above us. He drinks it in eagerly, and it’s like introducing Marik to the world all over again; such sweet, child-like innocence.

I hope he stays. I really do. There’s so much I want to learn from him, and about him.

We talk about the stars and planets for hours, till Tou sticks his head out of his tent, his hair ruffled from sleep, and orders me to get some rest so he can take the next watch. Kek immediately grabs hold of my hand, his lips pursed and eyes darting.

“Stay with me, Kek,” I whisper, and that seems to put him at ease somewhat. He’s much easier to read than Marik is.

Tou stares after us, completely disbelieving and shaking his head, but I just stick my tongue out at him and tug Kek over to my tent. There are three tents, because Marik has one of his own, but because he’s in with Tou, his has been left empty. Kek keeps hold of my hand, though, seemingly intent on remaining with me. I have to remind myself that he’s so new to the outside world, and that’s fine with me – I said I would take responsibility for him, and I will.

Once in the tent, he curls up under one corner of the blankets, facing away from me, and I take the other side. He radiates warmth, and gods, how I’d love to just roll over and spoon him, soak in that heat, but no…that’s quite inappropriate! I just settle for listening to his breathing, evening out into slow, deep sighs as he drifts off to sleep.

Goodnight, Kek…I hope you’ll stick with us. This world isn’t kind to you when you’re on your own.

* * *

Sleep comes easier to me now, but it never used to be that way. Even before Amane died, I would lie in fear of what was out there in the darkness, ready to set upon us as their prey. Now I have darkness itself sleeping comfortably beside me. How could I be scared?

And yet…it feels as though my throat is tight…and the air seems to have frozen solid in my lungs…am I dreaming this? Or…?

_No._

_I can’t breathe._

I startle awake, meaning to cry out, but I can’t. In the near pitch-blackness of the night, it’s difficult to see what’s going on, but I can _feel,_ I can _hear…_ fingers pressing into my neck; rapid, gasping breaths against my cheek.

I’m choking.

Kek is choking me.

I can’t…I can’t move…his weight is pressing me down to the ground. Only my arms are free, and he’s too strong to shove off - ! Dammit!

My knife…

That’s right…I still have my knife on me.

My lungs are blazing now, every shudder of struggling breath a silent agony, and my thoughts feel like candyfloss, but somehow, in the haze, I manage to slip my knife out from under my shirt and flick it upwards in a shaky arc. Kek gasps and lets go of me, toppling backwards.

I suck in huge breaths of air, trying my hardest not to cough and splutter. My throat throbs with discomfort, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s probably going to bruise later. “Kek, what the hell?” I whisper. My voice doesn’t seem to want to raise any louder than that.

“I-I don’t…I…” Kek’s eyes blaze in the gloom, pupils wide and framed by scintillating purple. His breaths come as sharp as mine, and when I conjure up a small ball of light to hover over us, I see him pressing his shaking hands over his stomach. “What…w-what happened?” he asks me, his own voice quavering in an eccentric rise and fall.

I feel a little more able to breathe properly now, and I manage to pull myself over to Kek, hunched over by the mouth of the tent. Sheathing my knife away safely, I reach my hands out to Kek. “Let me look, okay?” He doesn’t protest, merely drops his grip on his stomach, and I slip his vest upwards, seeing I’ve left him with little more than a long scratch, starting from his navel and ending just below his pectorals. It’s bleeding quite a lot, which I expected, given how much I had sharpened the blade only a few hours ago. “I need to clean this up,” I tell Kek.

"You shouldn't - "

"I want to."

Kek gives a defeated sigh. "Just cleaning, then. No magic."

"Why?" I ask, but he just shakes his head, and I decide better than to argue with him. I fetch a bottle of water, two cloths, and a bottle of spirits from my bag, and Kek tugs his vest off over his head so he doesn't have to keep it bunched under his armpits. I wet one of the cloths with the water, and set about carefully cleaning the blood away from Kek's skin. He's silent, his face giving nothing away, but his eyes continue to dart here and there as though agitated.

Once the bleeding starts to lessen, I put the soiled cloth aside and pick up the second one in order to pour some of the spirits onto it. "This is going to sting," I warn Kek, and he shrugs, but he still recoils and hisses like a cornered snake when I dab the cloth over the wound. "Sorry, Kek."

By the time I've finished patching him up, he's begun to shiver, and I offer him his vest back, but he doesn't seem to register me at all. It's like he's seeing right through me. Is he...freaking out?

I touch his face gently, and his head snaps up, eyes wide and unblinking as he breathes heavily. “Hey...are you okay?" I ask quietly.

Kek’s arms suddenly shoot out and his hands grab hold of my shoulders, gripping tightly. I wince, not quite expecting how hard he would hold onto me, but I try to bear it for his sake. He looks terrified, the poor thing. My hand continues to run over his cheek, keeping my movements soft and careful. “What can I do for you?” I whisper. “How can I make this better?”

He lowers his gaze then, still shivering. He doesn’t answer, but he nuzzles ever so slightly against my fingers, sending them burrowing into the thick spikes of hair atop his head. At that, he gasps softly and presses his head fully into my palm. I can imagine the shiver running down his spine at the sensation; I’m no stranger to loving a good head scratch, myself!

“Okay, let’s shift around a bit, shall we?” I smile. Again, Kek has no verbal reply, but he makes his wishes known by knocking my hand away before curling down and settling his head in my lap. The tremors still twitch through his body, and his hands ball up into protective fists under his chin, but when I begin to stroke his hair again, I feel him beginning to relax against me.

Silence stretches on for several minutes, only periodically broken by gentle sighs from the malevolent alter-turned-human nestled into me. He looks so cute, this firm boulder of muscle, reduced to a purring puddle of bliss. “How are you now, Kek?” I ask.

He gives a quiet snort. “Kek,” he mutters. “It’s gonna take a while to get used to having a name.”

The fact he’s speaking again is reassuring, so I don’t disturb him further. My hands continue working through his hair, brushing it back from his face and rubbing careful circles into his scalp. Kek is practically unravelling beneath my fingers, and with every passing minute, I sense the tension leaving him, the fear of being thrown into the mortal world as his own being…

…In fact, I think he may be falling asleep on me.

“Kek?” I whisper. There’s no response from him, and I can’t help but giggle as I carry on stroking him. His hair is stiff and so ridiculously thick that my fingers keep snagging in it, but there’s something addictive about the feel of it in my hands, and I don’t want to stop.

A brief snore erupts suddenly from Kek, breaking the calm and startling me into breathless laughter. With careful, inching movements, I manage to wriggle out from beneath his head, and he settles back in amongst the blankets. Such peaceful serenity graces his face…he looks more like Marik now than I ever thought he could.

I know I should be scared. I know I should be wary of this violent creature. He’s tried to kill me twice, and yet, all I feel is powerful curiosity…a desire to hold him close and show him the world through the protection of my embrace.

As I lie down again beside Kek and tug the blankets over myself, I tell myself, for the thousandth time, that it really is no wonder that everyone calls me strange.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Content warning for depictions of violence._ **
> 
> **_This chapter has been partially rewritten to better match up with the new, previous, chapter._ **

* * *

Bakura lets me sleep all night. I don’t know why, and I want to protest about not being able to do my part, but I’m not given the chance. Loud voices from outside the tent rouse me, and I jump upright, my hands immediately feeling my waist for my daggers before I remember Bakura stripped them from me last night.

Oh, and I’m naked. There’s that too.

I grab my jeans and slip into them, then locate my daggers and rip them from their sheaths as I tumble out of the tent, looking around for the source of the commotion. It quickly becomes apparent what’s going on. Bakura is arguing heatedly with a gang of lank, greasy-looking men sat astride horses, while Ryou hangs back warily, Amane’s glaive raised in case he has to defend himself. Kek leans against a tree, patting Amie with a nonchalant expression, as if he isn’t bothered by the fact we’re quite clearly being set upon by bandits. I’ve not seen their like before, but I can tell by their attitude and the way they’re eyeing up our weapons that they’re looking to take what they can from us.

Their leader, the dark-haired one with a beard, looks over at me as I approach, daggers in hand. “Oho,” he grins, “you’ve another one in your little crew. And such a pretty one at that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Bakura spits. “I mean it. Get the fuck out of here.”

They’re looking at Ryou and I with odd expressions, something I can only describe as greed. It hits me suddenly that they’re not any old bandits; they’re slavers. I’ve heard of people like them. They travel the wilderness, seeking out strong, capable potential captives, to sell onto the Dark One’s forces to appease them. In return, they’ll order their demons to leave the slavers’ towns alone, but only for as long as they’re provided with suitable warriors and bed-warmers. Ryou, with his soft, effeminate features and cascade of white hair, is an unusual beauty that I’m sure they’d love to snap up, but me?

Bakura scowls at me, flinging out an arm. “Get back, Marik. Let me handle this.”

"Don't be stupid," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Not even you can take on six men at once, Kura."

"Oh, yeah? Watch me." Bakura draws his _ninjato_ and tosses it from hand to hand. "Oi, Kek!" he yells. "You gonna make yourself useful or not?"

Kek lets out a bark-like laugh. "Not yet. I want to see you dance, _Kura."_

"Enough of this," the leader of the slavers growls. He flicks his hand towards Ryou. "Grab that one. Don't damage his face."

One of the men jumps down off his horse. Ryou's reaction is instantaneous, swiping a hand through the air and knocking the man back with a violent burst of wind. He hits the ground with a dull thud.

"A mage!" he gasps. "I never - "

Ryou thrusts his glaive forwards, jabbing the tip against the downed man's throat. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmurs. "Please don't make me do something I'll regret."

The man spits in Ryou’s face. He sighs and wipes his cheek, then tosses the glaive aside and drops down to deliver a single punch to the man’s head, knocking him unconscious.

Everything goes to hell. The slavers charge us, furious, and I dive out of the way to grab my _uchigatana_ from beside the smouldering ashes of the fire. As I whip upright, I feel danger bearing down on me, so I unsheathe my blade and bring it round in a sweeping arc, feeling it slice through flesh and sinew like paper. A spray of blood soaks my face and hair and there's an inhuman scream; I've severed a horse's leg, and its heavy body tumbles to the ground, throwing its rider into the dirt.

Holy fuck.

I had to, though...right?

Still, my stomach clenches and I have to breathe heavily to stop myself heaving at the sight of the poor, defenceless horse twitching and moaning as it bleeds out. Its rider staggers towards me, drawing a wicked looking dagger, but I'm prepared this time. I block his slashes and stabs with ease, flicking my much longer blade almost lazily. He’s a novice, and it looks like his companions aren’t much better. Bakura has three of them at once, keeping them at a distance with well-placed jabs of his _ninjato_ and the graceful dance of martial arts. Unlike Ryou, he shows no mercy.

Kek is a completely different story. He’s _brutal,_ taking on the remaining two slavers with Ryou’s glaive as if he were born with one in his hand. His face is a mask of glee, and he laughs maniacally as blood spurts along the length of his weapon.

“Yes! Scream for me! Make this worth it!”

“You are one fucked up piece of shit,” Bakura growls, tossing one of his victims to the floor and blocking an attack from another.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, sweet cheeks.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Touzo!” Ryou yells. Bakura ducks immediately, allowing Ryou to hurl a crackling bolt of electricity over his head, smiting another slaver square in the chest. He topples with a howl, and Bakura drops down to finish him off, cutting his throat. At the same time, I see an opportunity and drive my blade through my target’s unprotected stomach. He’s dead before he hits the ground.

There’s just the leader left now, and he is much more skilled than his companions, managing to push Bakura back time and time again, leaving him no opening to counter-attack. “How dare you!” he shouts. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, living out here?! This is the only way we could survive!”

Bakura shrugs. “I’d have sympathy for you, but not when you would have sold off my brother like a piece of meat. Sorry, I won’t take that lying down.”

“Once I kill you, I’ll move onto your friend over there, and then the pretty two are mine, do you hear me?!”

“Loud and clear.” Bakura looks over his shoulder at Kek, who is wiping blood from Ryou’s face with a corner of his cloak. “You hear that, fuckface? He says he’s going to kill you!”

Kek grins. “A pity. I’m such a gift to this world.”

The air around us seems to shimmer and darken, with shadowy wisps swirling around Kek’s body like ghostly apparitions. Ryou hurries to my side, slipping his arm through mine. “Wait till you see this,” he whispers. “It’s amazing.”

“What the heck did you two get up to last night?” I ask.

“I’ll explain later.”

Bakura and the slaver stop fighting and look up in surprise, but nobody has any more time to react before the darkness coalesces and surrounds the slaver. Magic. Shadow magic. Kek is a mage too. How does he know how to do this?

"Disappear,” Kek whispers, snapping his fingers. A moment later, the darkness vanishes, and the slaver is gone, as if he never existed at all.

Bakura stares at him, mouth open in shock. “What the fuck?!” he explodes. “Why didn’t you do that the minute they attacked us?!”

“I wanted to draw blood first,” Kek shrugs.

“You bastard. They could have killed us!”

“No, they couldn’t. Go ahead and flatter yourself, you had that handled on your own.” Kek wipes the bloodstained tip of Ryou’s glaive on his cloak and sets it on the ground. “But hey, any excuse to show off my flashy magic.”

“How did you do that?” I ask weakly. “Surely I should have known if I had shadow magic inside me.”

Kek throws back his head and laughs. “I know, confusing, right? Sorry, kid, this power’s all mine. But it’s fucking cool, isn’t it?”

“It’s brilliant,” Ryou breathes, still clutching my arm. 

Bakura tosses his hair back over his shoulder with a snort. “You and your occult obsession, Ryou. He’s still dangerous.”

“I’m in no danger around him,” Ryou smiles sweetly.

“You want to explain these, then?” Bakura jabs his finger at Ryou’s neck, and for the first time, I notice mottled bruising around the white flesh in the shape of what is quite obviously hands and fingers.

Ryou touches the bruises with a gentle laugh. “I gave as good as I got. Show them, Kek.”

Kek lifts up his vest, smirking. A thin, scabbed cut runs from his navel all the way up to his sternum. That seems to placate Bakura, who laughs and ruffles Ryou’s hair, then strides over to the slavers’ horses, slapping their flanks to encourage them to run free, with the exception of one, a pure black stallion. “Here, you mad fucker, you take this one.”

Kek raises an eyebrow. “I tried to kill your brother, and you’re giving me a horse?”

“You two do whatever the fuck you want, just make sure you’re both well enough to ride and fight.” He grabs the slaver that Ryou knocked unconscious and drags him to Cleo, slinging him over the saddle before clambering up himself. “I’m dumping this one. Better he lives to know we’re not to be fucked with. Pack all this away, we’re moving off again soon, alright?”

* * *

 Bakura is gone about an hour. In that time, I collapse the tents and pack them, Ryou gathers up our supplies, and Kek takes gold and valuables from the bodies before disposing of them with his shadow magic. Then Ryou summons a torrent of water to wash away the blood and gore of the fight from the ground, directing a little at me to loosen the dried splashes on my face. Kek doesn’t let him do the same to him, licking a little off his bottom lip and laughing.

I feel oddly calm now. That was my second human kill, but the first in which I felt fully in control. I know now that it was Kek’s influence that had me kill my father, but this time I knew what I was doing. I don’t feel guilt, though. I was defending myself. Ryou doesn’t look perturbed either by what just went on, but I guess if he can handle Kek, he can handle anything. He’s giggling as he tries to clean Kek’s face, chasing him around the remains of the campfire, and it’s strange to see, but sweet at the same time. My darker side tried to strangle him to death, and yet he’s playing with him like a best friend. I have to give Ryou credit, he’s the strongest, most stable person I know.

By the time Bakura returns, we’re dressed, dried and ready to go. I make sure the horses are fed and watered, then help Bakura with lashing our supplies back onto their saddles. “You did well back there,” he murmurs as we work. “Didn’t doubt you for a second. You handled yourself brilliantly.”

“Thanks,” I grin. “I did learn from the best, after all. Wait till we come across more talented enemies before complimenting me so freely, though.”

Bakura chuckles, leaning in to kiss my lips. My heart gives a little flutter as I realise that his kiss is our first in front of Ryou, and I can see him watching us out of the corner of my eye, but he says nothing, just observes with a little smile. “Who knows, you might surprise me,” Bakura whispers as he pulls away.

“I’ll do my best,” I reply. Bakura nods, giving me one more kiss before shooting Ryou a scowl. Ryou smirks at him and turns away, whispering animatedly to Kek. I get the feeling I’m going to be grilled about everything that’s been going on later. Ryou is a real sucker for gossip, especially where his brother is concerned.

We ride off soon after, taking a leisurely pace so we can eat in the saddle. It’s nothing special, just leftover bread from last night, but it’ll serve until we next make a stop. Bakura says there’s a small city half a day’s ride away, so we can stop there and gather some information, buy more supplies if we need them, maybe catch a decent night’s sleep at an inn. I can see Bakura is exhausted from taking most of the night’s watch, so the prospect of a comfortable bed probably appeals to him right now. Personally, I wouldn’t mind a proper wash as well. Ryou did a good enough job of cleaning the blood from my face, but I can feel the remainder of it in my hair, and knowing it’s there makes my scars itch.

“What happened last night?” I ask Ryou. He rides alongside me, his long hair bobbing over his shoulders in time with Amie’s canter. “I wasn’t worried about you, but Bakura was.”

Ryou smiles at me. “That’s sweet of him. But you were right not to be worried. Kek’s a real sweetheart once you understand how he works.”

“And you figured that out in the space of a few hours?”

“Pretty much.”

“How?”

A peculiar expression clouds Ryou's features for a moment. He relays to me the events of the night before, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to where Kek rides alone. I don't interrupt, just listen politely, but inside, I'm bursting with curiosity, wondering how Ryou managed to tame Kek so quickly despite almost being killed by him twice in the space of a single evening.

"He craves closeness, Marik," Ryou finishes. "He’s been alone in that darkness for as long as he can remember, and now he’s out in the open, he’s scared. I want to protect him.”

Kek is huge, and so strong, it’s hard to believe that he would need protecting, but I saw the bewildered look in his eyes when he first beheld us, the sense of loss and fear around him. Ryou was the only one who stayed calm, even with a knife to his throat. I guess it makes sense that he would be the one Kek latched onto, to help him through this confusing adjustment to the world. “Kura doesn’t trust him,” I murmur, scratching my head. “It’s going to take some time.”

“I know,” Ryou replies. “I’m not worried, though. Kek will prove himself in due time. But hey, Marik…” Ryou leans to the side slightly, a gleeful expression on his face. “What happened with _you_ last night? And don’t try to hide anything from me. I’m not stupid.”

“You really want to talk about this? About your brother?”

“I’ve heard worse,” Ryou grins. “Go on, tell me!”

Bakura’s far enough ahead on Cleo that he won’t hear us talking, so I sigh and give in. “We just…kissed and touched a little,” I tell him. “Nothing major, but it was enjoyable.”

“Was that your first time?”

“Yes.”

“And he kissed you back at the camp."

"Mm-hm."

"What does this mean for you two?"

“I don’t know," I admit. "I’m so new to all of this, I have no idea what to think.”

Ryou reaches out and squeezes my shoulder gently. “Honestly, Marik? Take this chance. Take it with both hands and don’t let go." As if to demonstrate, he clasps his own hands together, as if in devout prayer. The image reminds me of my childhood, of my father before the altar, of the crowds copying him in perfect synchronicity. "Any one of us could die today, tomorrow, next week," continues Ryou. "It’s dangerous out here, so you have to take every chance you get.” He sighs, looking ahead at his brother. “Tou’s closed himself off to anyone who loves him for so long that he’s probably forgotten what it feels like to have his affection returned. You’re both perfect for each other, though. Do what feels right. I’m sure that’s what he wants as well.”

Ryou’s words are powerful, thought-provoking, and everything he says rings true. This is what I want. I want to be by Bakura’s side. To protect him, love him, live my life with him as the light that shines in my darkness.

I just hope that Bakura will be able to let down his walls enough to feel the same way.

* * *

 By the time the sun is threatening to set, we reach Lux, a sprawling mini-metropolis on the Nile’s banks. It seems relatively prosperous, and mostly unaffected by demon attacks, its citizens walking with relaxed demeanours, unburdened by the excess of weapons I was so used to seeing on the people of Amarna.

We hand our horses over to a young girl running the stables, then Bakura points in the direction of a large tavern on the main street. “Take some time to look around if you want, but come here by dusk, alright? I’m booking a room upstairs and getting a few hours sleep till then.”

“Alright,” I reply. “Ryou, Kek? What do you want to do?”

Kek touches Ryou’s shoulder, as if silently repeating my question. Ryou looks around, smiling broadly. “Let’s explore,” he says after a few moments. “I’ve not been here before, so it’ll be fun!”

Ryou chats away happily the whole time we explore Lux. Kek trails behind, his eyes darting around constantly as if expecting danger, but Ryou slips his arm through mine, the same as he did back at the camp, and keeps me close by. His affection makes me feel warm and content inside, something I feel to the same extent with Bakura, but he isn’t likely to act the way his brother does in public, so I guess it’s nice to have the best of both worlds. The love I bear for Ryou goes beyond that of a friend, but it’s truly Bakura who has stolen my battered heart.

With the gold Kek took from the slavers, Ryou stocks up on medicines, and Kek drops by a blacksmith to choose his own weapons, so he doesn't have to steal ours. I accompany him, and he comes out with his own set of daggers plus, surprisingly, a longbow and a quiver of arrows. "How would you even know how to use those?" I ask him. "I certainly don't, so where does your knowledge come from?"

"I'm going to practice," he replies curtly. "You guys need someone more ranged, and you can't leave it to Ryou and his magic all the time, he'll exhaust himself. I can use daggers as well as you can, so I'll use them till I’ve got a hang of the bow."

"Could you teach me too?"

"Maybe."

I smile at him, this vengeful dark side of mine. "Thanks, Kek."

His cheeks flush and he looks away, scowling. "Hmph...yeah, alright."

We meet back up with Ryou outside the apothecary, and head towards the tavern to find Bakura. It takes us a while to locate the main street again, but the familiar sounds of raucous, drunken activity guides us. An odd sensation squeezes my heart, and I can see Ryou looks a little wistful. I imagine it reminds him of his life back in Amarna, the life we've left behind along with the memory of his sister.

The tavern is busy and well-kept, obviously used to catering for many. As with Ryou's tavern in Amarna, it seems to house a lot of mercenaries and bounty hunters, distinguishable by their battle scars and hardened expressions as they kick back and relax for the little time they have off the road.

We find Bakura sat at the bar, smoking a cigarette and tapping the fingers of his free hand against a glass of whiskey. Ryou slides onto a stool beside him and touches his arm, smiling. "Sleep well?" he asks.

Bakura grunts. "Feeling a little more functional. Did you find much?"

"Kek's got some weapons of his own now."

"Just make sure he isn't going to use them on us, yeah?"

"Fuck you," Kek mutters, leaning on the bar. He orders a tankard of ale for himself, and a glass of wine for Ryou. Bakura lets me try his whiskey, and I order one of my own, finding it quite pleasant.

I sit on Bakura's other side and lean in, letting our shoulders brush together. "This is a nice city," I muse. "It must be well protected."

"It is," Bakura replies. "Some of the best mercenaries I've ever worked with came from here."

"You never thought about working from here instead?"

"Debated it, but uprooting my siblings would have been a pain in the ass." He sips his whiskey, looking thoughtful. "Maybe once this is all over...if we're all still alive, anyway...we can mull it over."

"Don't talk like that," I chide gently.

"Just being realistic." Bakura leans further onto the bar, stubbing his cigarette out into an ashtray.

I glance over his shoulder at Ryou and Kek, conversing quietly together. Kek looks a little uncomfortable, but Ryou is squeezing his hand and giving him his ever-present smile. After a few moments, Kek relaxes and gives a nod to whatever it is Ryou's saying, brushing a stray lock of Ryou's hair back from his face with his free hand. Ryou giggles and blushes. Bakura scowls at that, but Kek's eyes meet his and he raises an eyebrow as if daring him to object.

"Well, well...what a surprise. Didn't expect to see you here, Silver."

The new voice makes us all look up curiously. A young man stands a few feet away from us. leaning against a pillar casually. Long black hair falls into his eyes, which, as I notice when he sweeps his fringe back, are a scintillating green. A hint of chainmail peeks out from the top of his scarlet doublet, and an elaborately patterned scabbard rests on his hip. He looks friendly and gives off an easy-going air.

Bakura's face splits into a wide grin. "Holy fuck! What are you doing here, Otogi?"

"Could ask the same of you." Otogi approaches and holds out his hand; Bakura clasps it with both his own, laughing. "Been a while, hasn't it? Four years, give or take?"

"Something like that. Might have been longer. Ah, should probably introduce you…” Bakura lets go of Otogi and waves a hand towards me. “Marik, this is Ryuji Otogi. We’ve worked a few jobs together in the past. Fucking nuts with projectiles, this one! He’s the one that taught me how to throw shuriken like a pro. Otogi, this is Marik Ishtar, my little self-styled apprentice, and you know my brother, don’t you?”

“Hi!” Ryou grins.

“Nice to meet you, Marik, and it’s good to see you again, Ryou.” Otogi eyes Kek with a raised eyebrow. “And your friend?”

“Oh, this is Kek,” Ryou says. “He joined us last night.” Kek inclines his head by way of greeting, then turns away to sip from his tankard, looking almost shy.

Otogi drags a chair up and drops down onto it. “What are you doing so far north, Bakura?”

“Heading back home,” he murmurs, a little grimace on his face. “Amane died a few months ago. It was time for us to get our asses into gear, and last I heard, Atem’s band of merry men had amassed at Kul Elna, so fuck it, we’re gonna head up and see if this rebel army is as good as the rumours say.”

“Oh, fuck. I’m really sorry, guys.” Otogi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I can give you the low-down on the rebels…I joined them myself just over a year ago.”

“You’re kidding? So what are you doing here?”

“Recon,” Otogi replies. “I'm here with two others, well, one of them is still in the field, so we're just waiting now.” He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his chin. “You heard right, in any case. We’ve been in Kul Elna for a while now, and I don’t think we’ll be moving anytime soon. It’s a great vantage point and not too isolated these days, so there’s support when needed.”

“How’s his Majesty?” The tone in Bakura’s voice makes it clear he isn’t asking in a respectful manner.

“Well enough. He finally let some of his higher-ups handle some of the workload, and he’s definitely been happier since we raided Zorc’s palace last year." 

"Oh? Do tell," Bakura encourages.

"God, you should have been there, Bakura," Otogi laughs. He leans back again and pulls a coin out of his pocket, tossing it into the air and catching it with skilled, nimble fingers. "It was brilliant, never had a rush like it. We freed a load of slaves they had kept in there, and it was a lucky risk to take, because they’ve turned out to be some of the best fucking fighters we’ve got.”

Ryou sips his wine with a wry expression. “Looks like we’ve been missing out on all the fun, Tou.”

“I can hardly wait,” Kek laughs.

Bakura flashes Kek a rare smile. “You’ll get your blood soon enough, Kek. Hang on a little longer and try not to kill my brother till then, hm?”

The conversation flows for some time, but I’m tired, and in sore need of a wash. I murmur my intentions to Bakura, who nods and passes me a room key, pointing to the stairs to direct me. I say my goodbyes and drag myself upstairs, locating the room and unlocking the door. The room is small, but clean and comfortable, with a cramped ensuite and shower through another door. Our bags sit by the foot of the bed. Just the one bed…it seems that Bakura still doesn’t want to sleep alone. I’ve no problem with that, and I can’t help but smile as I rummage through my bag for a bottle of oil, ready to work into my scars after showering.

So, a real rebel, in the flesh. I’m impressed. Otogi’s clearly a capable fighter, gets on well with Bakura, and there’s an element of rugged charm about him. If anything, seeing him will have given Ryou and Bakura the final boost they need to know if their plan to join the rebels was a good one.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _I am extremely busy now, as I have started my clinical placement and am pretty much falling flat on my face asleep the minute I get home. Please expect any updates from me to be rather sporadic now until I get my energy back or I have some time off. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but it's bloody knackering._  
>  **

* * *

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I guess I did, because my nightmares are upon me again. Images of death, blood, despair swim before me – blood pouring from Amane’s mouth, the burning tavern, the look on my father’s face as my blade found his heart, my sister Ishizu’s choking gasps to her very last breath, the darkness abounding as the white-hot knife seared through my skin.

I wake up screaming and shaking, the pitch darkness of the room sending me into a spiral of panic. I feel as though someone threw a bucket of freezing water on me, but I know from experience that I’m simply drenched in sweat. My heart is hammering, and my eyes are burning, my throat raw and my stomach clenching hard. When will this stop?

“Hey…I’ve got you.”

Strong arms wrap around me from behind and I feel Bakura’s soft breaths on my shoulder. Despite my skin being soaked, he pulls me back to lean against him and nuzzles behind my ear, murmuring gentle words that I can’t understand in my panic, let alone take comfort from. My screams cease, but then the sobs start, and I can’t breathe, Ican’tbreatheIcan’tbreatheIcan’t –

“Marik, it’s okay…it’s okay…calm down.”

But I can’t. I can’t. Bile rushes up my throat and I have to disentangle myself from Bakura so I can stagger to the ensuite. I barely make it in time, slumping over the toilet to expel the contents of my stomach as tears rush down my face. I’ve lost count of the number of times this has happened, but it never gets any easier.

Bakura comes in once he hears I’ve finished throwing up. He looks apologetic as he wets a flannel and dabs around my face. “I turned the light out when I came up,” he explains, rinsing the flannel and wringing it out before wiping my face again. “I completely forgot you’d be scared if you woke up. I’m so fucking sorry, Marik. Are you alright?”

I just nod, not quite trusting myself to speak yet. Bakura give me some water to drink, then I clean my teeth, and Bakura gently suggests I take another shower, to rinse the sweat away. It’s a good idea, but my legs are so shaky I don’t think I could manage. “Do you want me to get in with you?” Bakura asks, and through my anguish I feel my heart give a little flutter of loving agreement, so I nod again, and he grins at me, clearly pleased by my response. He starts the water up and helps me remove my clothing, then he takes off his own and guides me under the warm spray of the shower, keeping a firm hold on me from behind so I don’t topple over.

I finally find my voice. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, pressing his face into my shoulder blade. He’s probably embarrassed at how tender he’s being, but it’s helping me more than words can describe. I don’t ever want him to stop. It…it feels so good. He’s comforted me in the night before, but never like this. Since last night, we’ve taken a big step in our intimacy, so I guess things will go from strength to strength now.

Bakura grabs a small bottle of soap and kisses along my shoulders as he lathers up a glob in his hands. He begins spreading the sweet-smelling foam down my arms and across my torso, his fingers delicate against my skin. “I used to wake up just like you,” he tells me. “Middle of the night, scared and screaming and not knowing what was real and what was just a dream. Those images in your head can fuck you up worse than anything that happens right in front of you…it sticks around for so long. The human mind is fucking cruel.”

“You’ve never woken up screaming around me,” I murmur.

His hands are moving down my back now, carefully cleaning my scars and sliding round to my stomach. “No…I stopped a few years ago. I guess I just learned to remember that nothing like that can hurt me anymore. I’ve enough to be scared of in the real world, can’t let my dreams have a hold of me like that.”

“You’ve suffered so much, Kura.”

“We all have. Turn around.” He helps me spin round, and I lean back on the wall for a little support as he kneels on the slippery shower floor to spread suds down my legs, looking up at me with a little smile. “I bet you never thought you’d be in a situation like this, though. In a cramped little shower with an older man feeling you up and washing you.”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

“Seven years is quite a lot.”

“Not to me. I don’t mind.”

“…Good. I guess it’s just a number at the end of the day anyway.” Bakura stands and begins rinsing me off, holding me close again. “How are you feeling now? Any steadier?”

I tap his arm to get him to let go, and I give a little wobble, but hold steady. “I’m okay, I think.” I pick up the bottle of soap from the floor of the shower. “Can I wash you?”

Bakura smirks. “Thought you’d never ask.”

We switch positions, with Bakura standing mostly under the shower spray, running his hands through and wetting his hair as I move down his body, swirling patterns into the coating of bubbles on his tanned skin. His eyes are closed and little purrs of contentment rumble in his chest, clearly enjoying my touch.

I don’t think I will ever tire of touching him. It’s not the same as last night, when I was driven by an urge to explore what would make him delirious with desire…no, I just want to be close to him right now, feel his warmth under my fingers and ground myself back in a world without dreams, where all that can frighten me right now is the darkness…and even then, all I have to do is turn on a lamp, and the fear is driven away.

"Turn around, Kura," I say quietly, and he does so, slinging his hair round to his front so I can access his back and shoulders. "You keep saying you're going to cut your hair, but you haven't yet," I remark, starting to lather up his skin again. "How come?"

He shrugs. "I've had my hair like this for so long now, I guess it's hard to let go of it." He glances over his shoulder, smirking again. "Besides, it's useful when you need something to hold onto."

"How so?"

"Are you serious?"

"Um...I'm confused."

Bakura laughs, amused. "Oh, of course. I keep forgetting you're a virgin."

"Oh...you mean during sex? You're supposed to pull hair?"

"You don't _have_ to, but it feels good if you do."

"You like to have it pulled?"

"Mm-hm."

I start rinsing Bakura off, watching the suds roll down his thighs and into the drain. "Is that what you want for us? For us to...sleep together, intimately?"

"Sure, but not right now. I know from experience how fucking exhausting those nightmares can be. Don't worry, Marik. You'll get the chance to pull my hair when you're ready."

I know absolutely nothing about sex between two men, but I've a good enough idea of what it entails. The thought of being so closely connected with Bakura has my cheeks heating up in what is probably quite a violent blush. Before Bakura can laugh at me, I grab his shoulders and kiss him. He gives a little splutter of surprise, obviously not expecting me to initiate, but he melts into the kiss quickly and wraps his arms around me, pressing our wet bodies together.

Slipping my tongue into Bakura's mouth, I lean further into him, and he takes a few steps backwards, until his back is pressed against the wet wall tiles and my weight pins him in place. His hands are everywhere, my hands are everywhere, tracing over freshly cleansed skin in a way that feels both chaste and intimate at the same time.

We kiss, and kiss, and kiss...until the water begins to run cold and any fear that had lodged in my heart from the nightmare has long since fled to its dark recesses. Bakura turns the water off and helps me out, then drops a towel on my head, smirking his usual smirk. "We should try and get some more sleep," he murmurs as he towels his hair dry. "More journeying tomorrow. Otogi's told me of a shortcut through the valley, so we can expect to be in Kul Elna within a few days, if that."

So soon? It feels like no time has passed at all since we began planning to leave Amarna. Soon we'll be in amongst real rebels and fighting for the good of our nations. I'm oddly excited by the prospect!

We dry off, I rub a little oil into my scars, and then we clamber back into bed, not bothering to redress. The sheets are a little damp from sweat, but Bakura just flips them round to get to the drier side, and bundles us up comfortably. Usually it would be him cuddling up to me as he seeks out his comfort, but tonight I rest in his arms, my head on his chest. He tangles a leg through mine and nuzzles the top of my head, kissing my brow. "Better?" he asks softly.

"Better," I reply, my voice a scant whisper in my deep relaxation. I'm warm, and calm, and the feel of Bakura's naked form against mine is like a drug I know I'll never be able to get enough of. Last night we were writhing against each other, but now, we know there's no need to lose ourselves in lust. Instead, I lose myself in the scent of soap on our skin, the sound of Bakura's heart thudding steadily beneath his ribs, the feel of soft sheets and silky hair and warm skin under my fingers. I don't know who manages to fall back asleep first, but neither of us are disturbed by our dreams again.

* * *

 

Ryou has a new bruise when we meet downstairs later in the morning. Just a single round mark at the base of his neck, a deep purple as opposed to the pale blue stripes from Kek’s tightening fingers. Bakura just about explodes when he sees it, grabbing Kek and yanking him within an inch of his face as he snarls a multitude of threats. It would probably look more intimidating if it weren’t for the fact that Bakura is so short.

Kek just grins at him and shoves him back. “You’re very angry for someone who said just yesterday that we could do whatever we wanted.”

“I didn’t mean suck my fucking brother’s blood!”

“Touzo, calm down.” Ryou is curled up in a threadbare old armchair, sipping from a steaming mug of tea. “We’re all adults here. Please try to act like one yourself.”

“Fuck you, Ryou,” Bakura hisses. He shoots us all a venomous glare before turning on his heel and storming off outside.

I’m not quite sure I understand what’s going on. Frowning in confusion between Kek and Ryou, I sit down in the chair beside Ryou, and he pours me some tea. “Sorry about that,” he smiles as he hands a mug over to me. “Good morning, Marik. Did you sleep okay?”

I grimace and tilt my hand back and forth in a “so-so” gesture. “The usual. Ryou, what’s the big deal here?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry yourself about it, Tou’s just overreacting.”

Kek lounges back on a battered bench, arms behind his head and legs crossed, looking relaxed and completely nonplussed by current events. “Yeah, he’ll sit outside, chain smoke for a bit, he’ll be fine. I sat in your head long enough to know how he deals with stuff.”

We sit together for a while, sipping tea and digging through our bags for some food. Bakura doesn’t re-join us, but I know better than to go after him. He needs some time to think. Otogi comes along, though, bringing with him a young Kemet girl with long brown hair and glittering blue eyes. “This is Mana,” he explains to us as they sit down, “one of Atem’s protective circle. She works under Mahad as an apprentice mage. Mana, this is Ryou, Marik, and Kek.”

“Nice to meet you all!” she smiles, clearly a very friendly person. “I was here yesterday, but on business elsewhere, so I wouldn’t have seen you when Otogi did. Anyway, he says you’re all travelling towards Kul Elna?”

“That’s right,” Ryou answers. He looks absolutely enthralled to have met a fellow mage, leaning forward and looking like he wants to drink in every word Mana says. “My brother and I know Atem from a few years back, and Kul Elna was once our home, so…I guess we’re going back to where we’re supposed to be.”

Mana nods in response. “I’m sure it will be great to have you all with us!”

“Are you travelling back that way, you two?” Kek asks. I’m surprised to hear him speak, considering how quiet he was around Otogi yesterday.

Mana shakes her head. “No, we’re here for another few days, but we won’t be far behind you. I’ll tell you what you need to do to get into the camp, okay? It’s pretty heavily guarded given all the demon attacks the place gets, but if some of you know the Prince already, that’ll help. Just ask to speak with Seto or Yugi, and you’ll be taken through. Seto’s head of the six priests, and Yugi is the Prince’s second in command. If you come across any of our patrol squads, speak to them as well. Let them know you’ve seen me.”

“Sounds like there’s a lot of you,” I remark.

“There are now,” Mana replies, “but not so long ago, it was just the priests and the Prince. We’ve done a lot to get the population to trust us, and now we’re seeing a lot of new recruits as more and more of Zorc’s demons ravage their homes. It’s sad, oh so sad, but we’re giving them a purpose, so they can fight back and do what they feel is right in this war on darkness.” She twists the hem of her dress, sighing. “It’s all we _can_ do, really. Those poor souls need a reason to carry on fighting in this awful world. We can give that to them, or as much as is possible.”

“Noble,” Kek grins. “I’m sure that helps you sleep at night when demons continue to rip their victims limb from limb.”

“Kek!” Ryou chides. “Be nice.”

“Hmph.”

At that moment, Bakura wanders back in, looking a little calmer, though he still shoots a filthy look at Kek. He greets Otogi with a short murmur and frowns at Mana, but nods in her direction and perches on the arm of the chair I’m sat on. “When do you head back to his Royal Arrogance?” he asks Otogi.

“In a few days,” Otogi replies, ignoring Mana’s affronted gasp at Bakura’s insult towards the prince. “We’ve just told these guys who you need to speak to when you reach the camp. I guess you’re familiar with Seto – ”

“Yep, and not for good reasons.”

“- But Yugi, you won’t be. You’ll definitely know him when you see him. If people call _you_ short, wait till you see Yugi, he’s miniscule.”

Bakura throws back his head and laughs. “This should be interesting.”

“Are we ready to go?” I ask Bakura quietly.

“Whenever everyone else is.”

Ryou drains his tea and sets his mug down. “I’m ready.”

“Got nothing else to do here,” Kek murmurs.

“Then we’ll set off now. I just checked in on the horses and they’re good to go.” Bakura jumps to his feet and sticks his hand out to Otogi. “Be seeing you, then.”

“Yeah. It was awesome to run into you again.” Otogi clasps Bakura’s hand and grins down at him. “Ride safe, okay? See you again soon.”

“Good luck!” Mana trills, giving us all a wave.

It’s chilly when we step outside, a light drizzle of rain falling. I tie my hair back so it doesn’t drip over my shoulders, and pull my jacket a little tighter, shivering. Ryou, on the other hand, looks pleased, wiggling his fingers and making the raindrops form into glittering shapes with his magic. “Isn’t rain beautiful?” he says to Kek, who just shrugs and pokes the shape hovering over Ryou’s hand, making it dissipate with a small splash.

It’s cold, but I agree. Rain is beautiful. I don’t think I could ever tire of feeling it pitter-patter on my skin.

“Where next?” Kek asks Bakura, who’s walking alongside him with his hands in his pockets, a contemplative look on his face.

Bakura scowls at him, but responds after a few moments. “Across the Nile, and through the valley. If we don’t stop unless absolutely necessary, we’ll be in Kul Elna in less than two days.”

“Gosh, that’s gone by so fast,” Ryou remarks. He’s holding onto my arm again in his usual friendly gesture. “Can you believe we only left Amarna a few days ago?”

Before anybody can respond, a shout rips through the quiet morning air.

“Demons! To your positions, men!”

Kek’s face lights up as he draws his new bow. “Time to get some practice shots in!”

“Be careful!” I plead. “Don’t kill any of us by accident.”

“I’ll try not to,” he grins. “Come on! I wanna see where they’re coming from.”

Another shout rings out, more panicked this time. "General! Demon general! It's Terra!"

"What?" I turn to Ryou. "What does that mean?"

What little colour there is in Ryou's face has drained. "Oh god," he whispers.

Bakura flicks his daggers out of his sleeves and into his hands, scowling. "Zorc's generals are the cowards who decided to turn tail and run straight into his grasp. They're ridiculously powerful and barely humans anymore, thanks to the fucked-up modifications Zorc's bestowed on them. They each carry a golden relic that increases their power, and it's General Terra, holder of the Pendant, that's heading towards us right now. One of the weaker ones, but trouble nonetheless."

"My kind of scuffle," Kek laughs. I only hope he figures out how to use that bow quickly if we hope to leave Lux alive.

Ryou looks stricken, still clinging to me. "Tou, we should get out of here, quickly."

"I have to agree," I chip in. "If we hurry, we might make it to the stables before the first wave reaches town."

There's no time to think. Bakura purses his lips, but nods, jerking his head to the left and starting quiclkly in that direction, gripping his daggers warily. Kek follows, muttering under his breath about not getting his much-desired kills. Ryou and I bring up the rear, me watching out for ambush while Ryou sends out a sensory spell to feel out danger within the general radius.

More shouts begin to erupt around us, clashes of steel on steel, the smell of smoke and blood in the air. Ryou shouts out in his native tongue to Bakura, and a moment later, a barrel-chested demon hurtles out into the side street we're darting down. Bakura stabs it in the shoulder before kicking it to the ground. Kek finishes it off with a swipe to the throat with his dagger. Blood splatters his face and he laughs madly, only half-heartedly wiping it away.

Bakura scowls at him and yanks him up by his cloak, urging him onwards. "Come on, freakshow! Move it!"

As we emerge back onto the main road, I see that Bakura's words yesterday ring true. Lux's defenses are remarkable. I've only just realised now that the buildings are tiered in such a way that archers can be posted atop them, free to fire without risk of injuring their comrades. Arrows fire in intermittent volleys towards the demons that have swarmed the streets, swiftly bringing them down. Mercenaries and soldiers in heavy armour battle on the ground, cutting down with sword and spear. It looks like they're having no trouble pushing the enemy back.

But then an explosion shatters the hope I had, and everyone on the ground is flung backwards. Crashing armour and cracking bones resonate unpleasantly in my ears over the sound of Bakura and Kek swearing and Ryou gasping out in pain. A tall, willowy woman walks out into the road, eyeing her surroundings with obvious disdain. Well...I say woman, but her features have been twisted into something frightening, as if her very flesh is rotting fron her bones. Her skin is a sallow green, her eyes a sickly yellow. A greatsword lies across her shoulders, dripping blood steadily onto the floor. Holding it with just one hand as if it were paper, she must be powerful indeed.

She bares her teeth, revealing elongated canines, and laughs. "The rumours are true! Lux the Mighty. But oh, how you will fall."

Bakura spits onto the ground. "Terra," he growls.

My eyes dart to her chest, and there I see it, the glittering triangle of gold resting against her armour, held by a cord around her neck. She's the general Bakura spoke of. My heart stops for a moment as I take in the realisation that we've been trapped.

Terra's eyes fall on Bakura, and her smile turns wicked. "It's always so lovely to meet someone who knows my name. Sorry, boy, but you don't interest me. Step aside now, you and your little gang. I've no reason to harm you if you go quietly."

"Like hell," Bakura replies, his eyes rolling skywards. "I know your type."

"Am I your type, honey?"

"Far from it, I'm afraid." Bakura tosses a dagger into the air, catching it deftly. "So let's cut the crap and skip to the part where we kill each other. Places to be, horses to ride...I'm sure you know the drill."

Terra shrugs. "Suit yourself."

The hand holding her greatsword twitches, then she lifts the massive weapon up, swinging it round in an arc. The air around it shimmers, then coalesces into a fiery burst that knocks us all back a little. Ryou quickly swirls a barrier of water around us, protecting us from the heat. Bakura is swearing under his breath; he's probably realised we're outmatched against such a powerful, heavy sword. "I hope you can fucking use that thing," he says to Kek, indicating his bow.

Kek sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. "Only one way to find out, sweetheart."

"Fuck you." And with that, a flurry of needle-sharp shuriken fly from his hand towards Terra. One catches her below the eye, but the rest she deflects with a lazy flick of her sword. "Just keep Ryou safe, alright?" Bakura grabs my wrist. "Marik, with me. I need that lack of fear of yours."

Well, um...happy to be of use, I suppose. Together we leap through Ryou's barrier and Bakura slips his daggers away to instead draw the little-used _tachi_ slung across his back. My _uchigatana_ is the best I have, so I draw that, and we come at Terra from both sides. Honestly, our best bet is Ryou and Kek's magic, but keeping Terra distracted is paramount so they stand a chance.

Terra blocks us both effortlessly, me with her sword, Bakura with her armoured wrist. Feinting, Bakura drops low with a quick sweep of a dagger; she parries, laughing at our efforts. "I'm impressed, but it isn't enough, boys."

"Can't blame us for trying, hey?" Bakura grins.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that.” Terra lifts a hand, aiming a blast of fire at Bakura, but it’s neutralised by a well-timed shadow from Kek. Good thing he helped out, because Bakura completely freezes at the sight of the flames. He regains his composure quickly, increasing his blows with renewed vigour, and now Ryou drops the barrier, drawing his glaive as demons and humans alike begin to come round from the effects of the earlier explosion.

“Could have really done without this,” I hear Ryou mutter to Kek.

“Aw, don’t be like that, snowflake. This is fun!” Kek’s daggers flash in a blaze of silver and he brings down two demons at once.

Ryou smiles at that, ducking to avoid an arrow flying over his head and then whirling round, taking out another demon with the razor-sharp edge of the glaive. “You’re such a sadist.”

“Hell fucking yes, I am.”

“Stop fucking flirting, you two, and help us!” Bakura yells. Terra’s attacks are coming on hard and fast now, and both of us are struggling to keep the pace up. We’re going to be cut to ribbons if this carries on.

All this, just to try and get out of town. We might not even make it.

Damn it! Damn it all!

I’m not scared. Hell, I don’t think I could be scared if I wanted to. But I’m not ready to accept that we could die here!

But then the heavens open and blazing light storms through the streets like a violent chariot. The horde of demons drop down, screaming and covering their eyes, and for the first time, Terra falters, throwing an arm up over her face with a scowl.

That’s our chance!

Kek nocks his bow at lightning speed, loosing an arrow to fly through the air and bury itself in the joint between Terra’s chest and shoulder armour. A split-second later, Bakura’s _tachi_ slices upwards, severing the cord around her neck. The heavy Pendant tumbles to the ground, and I scoop it up as Ryou sends a powerful blast of fire towards Terra. Bakura grabs me and dives out of the way to avoid the searing heat; it strikes Terra in the stomach and sends her skidding backwards, gasping as her armour heats up rapidly.

“Damn you! Who do you think you are? You’ve no right to lay hands on my Pendant!” she spits at me. Before she can lunge and swing a killing blow, another blast of light erupts from the sky, and this time we see where it’s coming from.

A young girl in pink and blue robes is flying through the air, a wand held aloft in her hand. She looks like Mana, but she’s blonde, and her skin is paler. Nevertheless, a warmth spreads through my chest as I behold her. “Another mage?” I ask Bakura.

He shakes his head. “No…I’ve felt something like this before, but where?”

Ryou and Kek join us, and Kek shoves us hard towards the nearest side street. “Fucking get the hell out of here!” he yells. “Go, go!”

“What?!” Bakura snaps. “No, get off me!”

“I said go! We’ve no chance, alright! Let the flying chick handle it!”

There's no more time to argue. Bakura opens his mouth to retort at Kek, but all that comes out is a yelp of shock as Kek grabs him and throws him over his shoulder. "Come on, pipsqueaks!" he shouts to me and Ryou, taking off running down the narrow alleyway. We just about get over our shock of seeing Bakura handled like a rag doll before we hurry after him.

How we got to the horses in one piece I will never know, but somehow we do it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_After this, the next few chapters are going to be from Ryou's perspective. I figured it was about time, and it'll make the Deathshipping a lot more fun than viewing it from Marik's eyes. This is going to be fun! I've never written Deathshipping before. I hope it goes okay._ **
> 
> **_Sorry this chapter is kinda short. I wanted to bang something out before my schedule becomes manic again, and I've got a few days off at the moment, so I'm trying to make the most of them._ **

* * *

The next 24 hours are spent riding frantically, desperate to put some distance between ourselves and Lux, and the murderous general whose relic I'd stolen. It sits like dead weight in my pocket, but Bakura has told me to keep hold of it for the time being, as he wants to show it to Atem when we reach Kul Elna. Ryou is less forthcoming, wrinkling his nose when he holds it for a few moments. "It's dark, so dark," I remember him murmuring before handing it back to me, but he didn't say what he meant.

The Nile river proved to be difficult to traverse, if only on the account of my being unable to swim, and thus, neither can Kek. The horses seemed happy enough to wade through the rushing waters, but I had never even seen anything like it till recently, and the whole process made Kek and I incredibly nervous. Finally, soaked wet through and shivering, we made it across, and Ryou dried us all off with his magic before we set off for the valley Otogi told us to make our way through.

Huge sandstone cliffs box us in from both sides, casting imposing shadows over us and making the valley look darker than it really is. I don't like it at all, but I can bear it. Ryou keeps checking in with me, seeing if I'm okay, and I assure him that I'm fine. I'm not, in fact, I'm utterly exhausted, though so is everyone else, so we're all in the same boat at the moment.

Kek, bless him, has some sense. "We'll kill the horses if we keep going at this pace. Touzo, we need to stop for a while."

Bakura narrows his eyes at Kek at the use of his full forename, violating the privilege only his sole surviving sibling was permitted, but he seems to agree, and eventually we stop in a secluded area where we can tether the horses, letting them rest. I feed and water them, then Kek insists we get some sleep. "I'll take first watch, alright?"

"I'm not tired," Bakura growls, folding his arms.

I roll my eyes, then take his hand and drag him over to where Ryou is already setting up tents. Muttering curses under his breath, Bakura pushes inside the nearest one as soon as it's ready, and begins spreading out the thick furs we've been sleeping under. Ryou seems rather amused through his repeated yawns, and he looks so tired that he's struggling to set up the next tent, so I bring him into Bakura's, and all three of us nestle together for some well-needed slumber, Ryou on one side of me, and Bakura on the other.

Several hours later, I wake up to the sounds of low whistling outside. It doesn't sound dangerous, but my curiosity is piqued. Bakura and Ryou are still sleeping soundly, so I carefully extricate myself from the tangle of relaxed limbs and starlight hair, and poke my head outside the tent. Another whistle sounds directly in front of me, split seconds before an arrow whizzes through the air and the dull smack of wood reverberates.

"Fuck," Kek swears, lowering his bow. Oh, I see now. Kek's doing some target practice against a dead tree, where he's scratched a crude circle-within-a-circle to aim at. A few arrows have found their way towards the centre, but several stick out of branches and more litter the ground. Kek crosses the camp and collects the arrows up, then sits down on an old tree stump and begins sharpening the heads, tongue between his teeth and a frown creasing his brow.

It's strange, seeing him being so...I don't know...human, without Ryou around to ground him. He gives off such a murderous air, and yet, here he is, protecting us, not even looking like he has homicide on his mind.

He looks up, and his eyes meet mine, our identical gazes locking. "You should be sleeping," he tells me quietly.

"I've had plenty," I reply. I pull myself out of the mouth of the tent and slide into the centre of the camp, where a fire crackles, warming my chilly hand as I hold them out in front of the leaping flames. "Your arrows woke me up."

"Huh...sorry. Figured I might as well have a proper go, you know, without some demon general trying to lop our heads off."

"I didn't think you'd even know how to apologise."

"Fuck you. I can do whatever you can do."

"Sorry."

"...It's alright, Marik." Kek puts his arrow down and leans back on one splayed out hand, fluffing up his wild hair with the other.

I watch him for a while, taking in his mannerisms, his movements. It's still difficult to comprehend that Kek, the walking mass of muscle with my face and eyes, resided within me for so many years, using my emotions to strengthen himself, taking over me when I needed to be helped. And now he’s sat beside me, cross-legged and quiet, looking like any other person in this world. He came into existence confused and scared only a very short time ago, but he seems to be finding his way now, his place…just the same as I did all those months ago.

“Kek…” I ask tentatively, after a few minutes of silence.

He looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Do you think I will ever regain my lost emotions?”

Another bout of silence. Then Kek snorts, amused. “Idiot. You’ve already got them. You just haven’t realised it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at you, pipsqueak. You’ve been out of the tombs, what, less than three months? And in that time, you’ve felt fear, grief, amusement, love…the list goes on. You got your emotions back a long time ago. You’re just fucked up from everything that happened in our childhood, and that’s what’s making you feel like there’s nothing there.” Kek pushes himself off the tree stump and stretches out in front of the fire, setting his arrows down so he can put his arms behind his head. “Just because I’m out of your body doesn’t mean anything has changed, you know. You had those feelings before Ryou dragged me out into the world…I guess you’ll just be aware of it now.”

Oh, I…

He’s right…

I just…didn’t realise that they’d come back to me again.

But of course they did. I’ve been so stupid! Everything that I’ve been through since leaving the tombs, leaving the cult that slowly died before my eyes…everything has brought me back to the person I used to be, back when I knew what I was, what was within my heart. 

Kek turns his head to the side, staring at me with a satisfied smirk playing around his sculpted lips. “Told you.”

“Kek…thank you…”

He snorts again, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah…whatever. Hey…that hunk of gold you took off that general, do you still have it?”

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

“I wanna take a look at it. Hand it over, will you?”

“Oh…sure, hang on a moment.” The Pendant is still in my pocket, and I fish it out with some difficulty given its awkward shape and size. I pass it over to Kek, who sits upright to take it, weighing it in his hand experimentally.

He frowns at the golden relic, running the fingers of his free hand over the elaborate etchings decorating its facets. “Don’t you recall ever seeing anything like this before?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “No. Do you?”

“I’m unsure. Something about this is familiar…not this thing specifically, but something similar. It’s giving off the same dark aura that I felt as I came into being, eight years ago. Something like this was with us in the tombs, that’s for sure. I just wish I knew what.”

It suddenly occurs to me that Kek will know just about as much as I did about life in the tombs, something nobody else would understand or have experienced the way we did. I can…I can talk to him about our past. I’ve spoken little of my previous life, aside from when it was required, and something is telling me that discussing it further could help me move on and forward…and it could help me understand Kek a little more.

“Kek,” I say quietly, watching him observe the Pendant, “did you see everything through my eyes? My life from the minute you were born?”

His dark purple gaze bores into mine, then he nods slowly. “Yeah, I saw everything, experienced everything. That whole cult business was fucked up to hell. Who does that?”

“I suppose they thought they would be safe from the darkness.”

“And a fat lot of good it did everyone, dying of the damn plague like they did.”

“…I still miss them, though. I think. Do you know what I mean? We suffered a lot down there, but there were good times too.”

For the first time since he came into being, a sad expression crosses Kek’s usually harsh face. He sighs heavily, handing the Pendant back to me. “Yeah. Ishizu and Rishid were pretty much the only good thing about being trapped underground like fucking rats.”

It hurts to think of my, no, _our,_ brother and sister. They died so painfully, a fate I would never wish on anybody. Ishizu eventually became so ill she was unable to breathe by herself, and suffocated with nobody to help her. As for Rishid, he was tortured by Ishizu’s death, and rather than wait for the plague to take him, he cut his own throat two weeks later, in the dead of night. It was me who found him, lying cold and still in a pool of congealed blood. I was sixteen when they died, the first to fall, and slowly, the disease moved through our population until it was only my father and I left. How I never became afflicted with it is a mystery to me.

The conversation flows a little easier now, as we begin to discuss our siblings. Ishizu was four years my senior, slender and beautiful. She was due to marry soon after her twentieth birthday, and she kept to our traditions and cultures as steadfastly as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Routine and belief was everything to Ishizu, which was probably why she was so close to Rishid, nine years older than me. He was not born into the cult, but adopted, having been found outside as a newborn left to die. My mother took pity on him and wished to raise her as her own; my father hated him for it, an outsider that was unwelcome. Rishid always did everything he could to be accepted, in the hopes our father might learn to love him; alas, he never did. When I went through my initiation, Rishid carved the same symbols that were on my back into the side of his face, so that I didn’t suffer alone. He always looked after me, practically raised me like I were his son, not our father’s.

Rishid loved Ishizu. It was plain to see, but it was forbidden. He couldn’t touch her, and it broke his heart when she became engaged. When she died, there was little left for him. All he had was me.

“I drove him away,” Kek murmurs into his knees. He’d assumed a more defensive position when we began talking about Rishid, and didn’t seem able to meet my gaze. “He needed comfort, but he was pissing me off. I made you get angry, and tell him to stop being so pathetic. The less said about it all, the better, but…dammit, Marik. I killed him. It’s my fault he killed himself. I pushed him away until there was nothing left but despair in his life. Can you blame him for taking the easy way out? It was all me. All…f-fucking…me...”

His voice trembles before it breaks, and he hides his face in the folds of his cloak, but I know he’s crying. I don’t know what I should do. Every time Bakura cried, I would hold him, but this is Kek, nearly seven feet worth of untamed brutality, and he doesn’t look like the sort of person who would take kindly to such a soft gesture.

“Um…” I stammer, “do you want me to get Ryou?”

“No,” Kek sniffs. “No, don’t wake him. I don’t want him to see me like this.” Kek wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, scowling. “Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

I reach out and touch his shoulder, pleased to find he doesn’t shy away or punch me. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re human just like the rest of us. It’s okay to cry, Kek. Let it out.”

“You don’t hate me for what I did?” he asks, eyes wide and watery.

I shake my head. “No. You were born from hatred and violence, so it’s all you’ve ever known. That’s who you are. I can’t hate you for that.” I slide myself closer to Kek and rest my head on his arm. To my surprise, he wraps the muscled limb around me and covers me with his cloak, dropping his head to nestle against mine. Ryou’s earlier words about him craving closeness ring true, it seems. “I’m sad, I guess,” I continue, “but it’s hard to tell. I’ve gone for so long not knowing where my feelings went that now I’m experiencing them again, I get confused. I’m sad that everyone is gone, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“I’m sorry,” Kek whispers.

“It’s okay, Kek. You’re trying, I can see that. The way you are with Ryou…it’s a sweetness I don’t think even I could be capable of.”

He laughs softly. “His bruises suggest otherwise.”

“He doesn’t seem to mind. And he got you back with that cut to your chest.”

“True. That was pretty funny.”

“Kek…do you love him?”

“…He makes me feel giddy, and light-headed, and…I don’t know. Is that love? I don’t know, Marik. It’s too soon. I haven’t known him long enough. I saw him through you, but I didn’t feel anything tangible until I got this body.” Kek’s dark cheeks turn a rosy pink as he blushes bashfully.

I recall the newest bruise gracing Ryou’s neck. “When Bakura said you sucked Ryou’s blood, did you really?”

“Holy fuck, you think I’m a vampire or something?” Kek laughs. “No, but I did give him a rather impressive hickey.”

“Hickey?”

“Love bite. It was just…instinct, I guess, and it felt good to do it.”

“Did you sleep together?”

Kek doesn’t answer immediately, but I feel him give a tiny nod against my head. “I don’t know what came over us,” he murmurs. “Might have been the alcohol, I guess. All I know is the minute we got into the inn room Ryou booked, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

“Did Ryou flood the room with his magic?”

“No,” Kek chuckles, “but that would have been brilliant.”

“He really likes you, you know. I think you’ve had some transfer of my own feelings towards him,” I say, nestling a little deeper into the warmth of Kek’s body heat and the cloak wrapped round my shoulders. “I’m not exactly attracted to him, but he’s very beautiful, and kind and sweet, so maybe you’ve picked up on that, and it’s been magnified in you.”

“Possibly,” Kek muses thoughtfully. “It’s a little scary to think about. Honestly, give me a thousand shrieking demons over the prospect of falling in love anytime.”

_Take this chance. Take it with both hands and don’t let go. Any one of us could die today, tomorrow, next week. It’s dangerous out here, so you have to take every chance you get._

Ryou’s words from yesterday return unbidden to the fore of my thoughts. It must have been easy for him to say to me, if he was intent on doing the same thing himself. Even with my lack of understanding where love is concerned, I could see immediately that Ryou was very taken with Kek, and his ability to placate him despite the violence he emanated was impressive. If Ryou and Kek are getting themselves involved with each other, I honestly couldn’t think of a better match.

A long, deep yawn jolts me out of my reverie, and I look up to see Kek rubbing his eyes. “Get some sleep,” I tell him. “I’ll take the next watch.”

“Sure,” Kek murmurs. He withdraws his arm from round me to loosen the clasps holding his cloak closed. It flutters down with a soft rustle of cloth, and he secures it round my shoulders. As he stands, he points to the Pendant, still in my hands. “You should probably put that on a cord round your neck or something, so it doesn’t get lost.”

Not a bad idea, in all honesty. Kek’s cloak billowing around me, I quickly stand and locate a length of rope out of Isis’ saddlebag, then settle back down beside the fire, threading it through the hole at the top of the Pendant. Looking satisfied, Kek gives me a nod, then slips away into the darkness.

I feel like we may have bonded a little tonight, just a little. Ryou’s right – Kek’s scared, confused, unsure of himself as he takes his first tentative steps into life. He’s doing well though, all things considered. He isn’t me, and yet he is, and yet he isn’t…he could be my brother, maybe. However I look at it, he might as well be family.

Alone in the valley, with the sandstone cliffs forming shadowy walls all around me and only my thoughts for company, I wonder what would have become of me, had the plague not wiped out the cult, and I continued to live amongst them. Ishizu would have married, borne children of her own, and I would have been an uncle. Rishid, I guess he would have eventually found a wife, and the same for me. I couldn’t imagine bedding a woman now. It sounds so _wrong,_ now I’ve tasted Bakura’s mouth, felt his hands on my skin, given him carnal pleasure and he to me in return. I couldn’t ever want anything else, _anyone_ else.

Sooner or later, I will return to the place I grew up. Someday, I will tie up the loose ends and find my closure. For now, though…I’m content with life as I know it now. Out in the open, under the stars…free.

I suppose I should wear the Pendant now. It should be kept safe till we reach Kul Elna and we can hand it over to Atem. I gaze at the glittering gold relic, considering it for a moment, before tying the ends of the rope together, and slipping it over my head.

The effect is instant.

The darkness…Ryou said it was…

Oh, fuck, no…it’s…what’s going on?

It hurts…

I’m…feeling…oh, god…so sleepy…

…

…

 


	19. Ryou

Morning comes around bright and early, sunlight streaming in through the thin fabric of the tent. Hoo boy, I’m boiling hot! These furs of Tou’s are _thick._

Hang on…how come nobody woke me up to take watch last night? Kek was out there first, and…he’s snoozing away beside me, an arm thrown over my stomach and hair spilling out like an explosion beneath his head. Tou is curled on my other side, the furs pulled up over his face. Both are snoring away, clearly in a deep sleep.

So it’s Marik outside? Why has he let Tou and I sleep the whole night?

Carefully, I extricate myself from Kek’s embrace and fumble around in my pocket for a hair tie, binding my hair up out of my face. Rubbing my eyes, I push the flap of the tent aside and crawl out into our little makeshift camp. The horses toss their heads back and whinny softly when they see me emerge, so they must have been left on their own for some time.

Where is Marik? Frowning, I give the horses food and water, wondering where on earth he could have gone. It isn’t safe to leave everything unattended –

Wait!

What’s this I’m feeling…?

Such horrible, dark power…

“Marik?” I call out. “Are you nearby?”

No response. I start to panic. He had the Pendant with him, and I could sense something terrible inside it. That’s when I notice the deep purple folds of Kek’s cloak fluttering in the breeze from behind a jagged boulder. The dark foreboding I feel seems to intensify with each step closer that I take.

Oh, god.

It’s Marik. He appears to be asleep behind the boulder, covered by Kek’s cloak, but I instantly know something is wrong. I shout his name as I reach him and shake his shoulders, but he doesn’t stir. His skin is cold despite the heat of the morning, and pale, so pale. A feeling of revulsion rises in me the moment my hands touch his skin. It makes me want to run, run as far away as I can, because it reminds me of the deep isolation I felt as the shadows overtook my very being as a child. I try to seek out the darkness within his soul and drag it out, the same way I did when I exorcised Kek from his body, but nothing happens, and he doesn’t respond to my healing powers either.

“Touzo! Kek!” I yell. “Come here, now!”

Tou barrels out of the tent in a matter of seconds, dagger in hand, prepared to fight. Kek clambers out behind him, blinking his sleepy eyes in the bright light of the morning. Tou dashes over and kneels beside me, looking bewildered. “What’s going on?” he asks. “What’s wrong with Marik?”

“He won’t wake up,” I whisper, shaking my head, “and I can feel a horrible darkness inside him.”

Kek settles cross-legged next to Marik’s head, frowning. “Like you felt with me?”

“Yes…no…I don’t know!” I cry.

“Easy now, Ryou. Move aside a minute.” For once, it’s Tou who’s acting calm, pushing me out of the way and leaning over Marik’s body, inspecting him carefully. His touch is so gentle, so tender, my heart feels like it’s breaking for him. He pushes aside the folds of Kek’s cloak and lets out a surprised noise. “Marik’s wearing the Pendant.”

A gasp escapes my lips. There it is, clear as day, resting on his chest and glinting in the sunlight. “Why?”

Kek turns away, groaning. “Oh, fuck.”

“What’s wrong, Kek?”

“I…I told him he should put a cord on it, so he wouldn’t lose it.” He grips his hair, looking agonised. “I did this to him! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Tou slips the Pendant off over Marik’s head and stuffs it into the pocket of his hoodie. If he was hoping it would wake Marik up, it failed. “This wasn’t your fault, so shut up and pack the tents away, would you?” he growls at Kek, who just looks at him, confused. “Do I need to repeat myself?” Tou snaps. “We need to get to Kul Elna and fast. If it’s darkness affecting Marik, Ryou’s healing magic is all but useless. He needs proper medical attention.”

“We have medicine,” I point out.

“Throw all your potions at him, but it won’t help. Go and get the horses ready, Ryou. I’ll stay with him.”

I think I’ll cry if I stay, so I just nod numbly and stumble to my feet. Kek gives me a sympathetic glance as I trail past him, but he looks just as upset as I feel. As I fuss around the horses, I glance back over at Tou. He’s laid Marik on his back and has two fingers pressed to his wrist while gazing intently at his chest, watching his breathing. His teeth gnaw at his lower lip, but otherwise, he doesn’t look half as worried as I thought he would. I thought he’d be flapping about in a panic.

It’s clear Tou adores Marik in a way I never even thought possible. I’ve seen the way he looks at him, even when he thinks nobody is paying attention. Even before they started becoming closer, I’d sneak peeks at them during training, or in the evenings after a job, and even when Yuji was around, Tou would only have eyes for Marik. He loved him long before he realised it, I think. And I’m glad. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my brother genuinely happy.

But now…

Gods, I hope Marik pulls through this. My time in the shadows was short, but if Marik’s been in there all night, who knows if he’ll survive?

Kek packs up quickly and tosses the bags over to me so I can lash them onto the horses, then Tou picks up Marik and brings him over. With Kek’s help, he secures Marik onto Isis’ back, rigging up a few knots with rope to hold him in place. “Wouldn’t it be better to put him with us on one of our horses?” I ask.

Kek shakes his head. “Nah, either way we’d have to lead Isis, so she didn’t wander off. We’re going to be slowed down, but it can’t be helped.”

“I hope he’s okay…”

“Me too, little one.”

Tou tightens the last knot, gives it a little tug, then nods. “Okay, we’re all set. Time to go.”

Hang on, Marik. Please just hang on a little longer. We’ll get you the help you need and pull you out of this foul darkness.

At least…at least, I hope…

* * *

The sun moves through the sky like a beacon of hope that we’re madly chasing, in the dash to reach our hometown before Marik succumbs to the shadows. He hasn’t moved the whole time we’ve been galloping through the valley, lying still on Isis’ back with only his shallow breathing to tell us he’s still alive. It’s probably fruitless, but I’ve been feeding some of my power over to him, hoping I can sustain him somehow. Every so often, Tou stops us so he can check Marik over, but then it’s back onto the horses and back to our fierce pace towards Kul Elna.

I’m a little nervous. I was five when I last saw it, and I remember the burning buildings and the smell of charring flesh like it were yesterday. The power that surged through me as I froze the flames solid haunted me for so long, I thought I would never break free of the curse that the tragedy saw fit to bestow upon me. I did it though…I was strong, and I fought through, and I managed to master the elements and more. Something good came out of the massacre. I’ve been able to protect my family and friends ever since.

And now, I have to protect Marik. I have to, no, _we_ have to save him.

As the sky darkens and dusk fans out across the landscape, we finally see it.

Kul Elna. We’re…we’re home.

But it doesn’t look like anything from my memories, nor Tou’s, judging by the look on his face.

It looks like a warzone. Well, not a warzone, more an army camp. I guess that should be obvious, given the rebel army is here, but there’s such an intimidating element of regimen and authority about its structure of tents and outposts. Some of the old, crumbling houses look to have been patched up and are inhabited, with lights flickering in the windows and shadows moving inside. A few people wander the tiny streets, but otherwise, it looks quiet.

“This is where you grew up?” Kek asks me. His eyes are wide as he surveys the landscape, an expression of surprise I’ve not seen before gracing his angular features.

“Mm,” I agree. “Well, for a few years anyway.”

Tou grins. “Welcome home, little brother.”

“Doesn’t look much like home.”

“Home’s where the heart is. Fuck how it looks.”

We ride up to the closest outpost, seeing a few people milling around lazily. They jerk upright and pull their weapons close as we draw near. “Hold it!” one of them, a tall, lanky young man with dark hair, commands, and we stop straight away, though Tou and Kek both scowl, clearly not liking the order. “What’s your business here?”

“We ran into Mana and Otogi on the road,” Tou tells them. “Told us we’d need to speak to Yugi or Seto.”

“Me and my brother know prince Atem,” I chip in. “We go back a few years.”

The soldiers glance at each other, frowning. Then the one that spoke first nods towards another, a kind-eyed girl. “What are your names?” she asks us.

“No time!” I bluster, shaking my head. “We’ve got someone injured here, and he needs help.”

She looks over to Marik and purses her lips. “What happened?”

“Does it matter?” Tou snaps. “If you won’t take us through, at least take him.”

The third soldier, a blonde, nonchalant but cheerful looking young man, puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder and approaches us. Isis snorts at him, but he reaches out and pats her nose. “Attagirl, easy now,” he murmurs in a peculiar accent I’ve not heard before. He then touches Marik’s face, checks his pulse, gives him a little shake. “They ain’t lyin’,” he says to the girl. “He’s well an’ truly out cold. Take ‘em through, an’ I’ll assume responsibility. They can go to Yuug, an’ this one goes to the medics.”

She nods. “Alright. Honda, will you take the injured one?”

“Sure thing,” the darker haired man replies.

The girl gestures to us. “Come with me, please. I’ll show you where you can put your horses.”

We dismount and follow the girl through the outpost and into the camp. I can’t help but glance back at Marik, so deathly still and limp as he’s carefully removed from Isis’ back. Tou does the same, his teeth biting into his lip again.

“I’m Anzu,” the girl tells us as we walk, “and that was Honda and Jonouchi back there. We’re friends of Yugi’s. Please don’t worry about your friend, he’ll be in capable hands. Here, you can put your horses in these stables, and then I’ll take you to see Yugi.”

I remember this stable. I used to run and hide in it when we played games, chasing each other through the streets and shrieking with glee. Now it’s just dark and empty, but it looks comfortable enough for the horses. We tether them up and retrieve our bags, then Anzu points to a low-walled building at the end of the cobbled road. “We’re just going through there. Can I get your names now, please?”

“Ryou Bakura.”

“Touzo Bakura.”

“Kek. Um…guess I’m Kek Ishtar.”

Anzu raises an eyebrow at Kek’s statement, but says nothing on it. “Nice to meet you all. Who is your friend?”

“Marik Ishtar,” Tou replies.

“Oh, so two pairs of brothers?”

“Yeah,” I pipe up. It’s easier than explaining Kek as a deranged alter ego that I dragged out of Marik with a botched attempt at exorcising.

Anzu takes us to the low-walled building and knocks a few times on the door before lifting the latch and poking her head round. “Yugi, are you free? There’s some people here to see you.”

“Oh?” comes a very young, friendly sounding voice. “By all means, I can spare some time. Let them through, please.”

Anzu smiles at us. “In you go!” She gestures, and we file through one at a time.

* * *

The building is well-lit with oil lamps and candles, though a little cold. It’s obvious there’s no electricity running through Kul Elna. A bed of rushes covers the floor, and a few items of furniture are scattered around; a table, a few chairs, a chest in the corner and a wall rack where several swords hang. A young man sits behind the table, looking at us over the top of an old book. A wild spray of tri-coloured hair – black, blonde and magenta – fans out from his scalp in a way that looks deliberately unorganised, and his eyes are huge, curious-looking; however, when he lowers the book, we can see that that’s just his natural look. He doesn’t appear suspicious, or uneasy, like the three we just ran into. On the contrary, he gives us a wide smile.

“Hi there,” he says calmly. “Please sit down – oh, you can just leave your bags anywhere, we can deal with those later.” Kek promptly takes my bags and drops them next to his own and Tou’s, then we each take a seat at the table. “My name is Yugi Mutou,” the young man says. “I’m Atem’s second in command. And who might you all be?”

We tell him our names, and recount, same as we did at the outpost, about meeting with Mana and Otogi, about us knowing Atem. Yugi sits and listens quietly, occasionally nodding, face impassive till Tou mentions the Pendant and the effect it had on Marik. His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, then he frowns. “Do you still have the Pendant?” he asks Tou.

“Yeah, here it is.” Tou pulls it from his pocket and drops it unceremoniously onto the table in front of Yugi. “Wanted to show it to his Majesty first, but I gather he’s too busy to give anyone the time of day.”

Yugi laughs lightly. “He isn’t here at the moment, otherwise I’d have taken you straight to him.” He picks up the Pendant carefully, turning it over in his hands and brushing his fingers over it curiously. “You must be very strong, to have taken this from a demon general,” he muses. “I’d love to hear the story at some point, if you wouldn’t mind indulging me. But that’s neither here nor here…tell me, what do you know about the Pendant and its other relics?”

Tou shrugs. “Not much. Never cared enough till it put Marik in a fucking coma.”

“Touzo!” I admonish, slapping his arm.

Yugi doesn’t seem offended by the swear. “Oh, don’t worry about the language. You should hear what comes out of Jonouchi’s mouth. Believe me, we’re all used to it around here.” He slides out of his chair – holy crap, he really _is_ tiny – and crosses the room to rummage in the old chest. Pulling out another book, he tosses it onto the table and flicks through it. “The relics, or rather, the Millennium Items, as this book calls them,” he says quietly, turning the pages slowly, “are essentially the keys to accessing Zorc. We can’t even get close to him while the generals still hold them. Sure, the palace has been stormed a few times, but as for actually finding Zorc, efforts have been zilch. We lost a lot of good fighters until we figured that one out. Then we found this book, and it made everything a lot clearer; the Items were made by blood magic, and it was carried out right here in this dead little town around twelve or thirteen years ago.”

My heart stops in my chest. Tou swears loudly. Kek just blinks.

It was…it was back then.

When our whole world was destroyed…that’s…

Oh god.

Our parents died to make the –

“I can’t…I can’t take this right now,” Tou mutters. He shoves his chair back and flees the building before any of us can call after him.

Yugi frowns. “Did I…say something wrong?”

“No,” I assure him. “It’s just…quite a shock. We grew up here, you see…and we lost our parents to a demon onslaught, most likely the very night you just described.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Yugi’s face drains of colour and he smacks his forehead with his hand. “How utterly tactless of me.”

“You weren’t to know,” Kek says gruffly. “Don’t beat yourself up. Bakura’ll be back once he calms down.”

This seems to placate Yugi a little, and he slides the book over to us, letting us read the passages he points out. I can explain all this to Tou later on, depending on how long it takes for him to come back.

So…there are seven of these Millennium Items – Pendant, Eye, Ring, Rod, Key, Necklace and Scales. Each of them hold enormous supernatural power and have some influence over the demons and the shadows in which they dwell. It makes sense, then, that Marik passed out upon wearing the Pendant; he isn’t a creature of darkness, and it must have overwhelmed him.

The Items correspond with the rumours we’ve heard on the demon generals; each hold, or held, one of them. So far, though, the rebels have only been able to take one more - the Ring - which Atem’s priest, Mahad, has been keeping safe. With each Item taken, the protective shell around Zorc weakens. I can definitely understand why they used the people of Kul Elna to accomplish the blood magic to create the Items. They had caused Zorc a lot of trouble, they were capable warriors, and they stood in his way more than many did at the time. What an…efficient…way to get rid of them.

Yugi seems very interested in the fact that Tou and I come from Kul Elna ourselves, but he doesn’t ask us too many questions, possibly sensing that it’s a sensitive subject. Kek isn’t very forthcoming when he’s spoken to, just looking to me as if asking if it’s okay for him to talk. It’s so strange seeing how shy he can get around people he doesn’t know, considering he’s the same person that only a few nights ago was threatening to slit my throat.

After about ten minutes, Tou sidles back in, still looking a little flustered, but I can tell he’s calmer. “What did I miss?” he asks me, and I quickly fill him in on everything Yugi told us. On cue, Yugi pushes the old book towards Tou, and he scans through the opened pages with a scowl creasing his brow. Once finished, he looks up at Yugi. “When is his Royal Arrogance back from wherever he is?”

Yugi blinks a few times, seemingly letting the insult towards his superior fly over his head. “Um, should be tomorrow,” he replies, “if plans went according to schedule, anyway. I can send word ahead that you’re here, if you like.”

“How?” Kek asks, curious enough to forget his shyness for a moment.

“I’ll show you.”

Yugi closes his eyes, and makes a little wiggling motion with his fingers. I smile and Tou chuckles, both of us knowing exactly what Yugi is doing. I always thought it was just Atem that could pull this off, but it seems others have the knowledge now too, no doubt passed on through him. A small brown, furry creature pops out of nothingness and perches on the table, blinking at Yugi with huge eyes. Kek uttered a splutter of surprise when it appeared, but now he’s leaning across the table and giving it a poke. “What the _fuck_ is this?” he demands.

Yugi grins at the fluffball. “Say hi to Kuriboh. He’s my _ka._ Small, and not much use in a fight, but he’s fast, and likes delivering messages, so I’ll have him go and find Atem.”

“He’s so cute!” I gush, petting Kuriboh eagerly.

Tou leans back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Atem teach you that?”

“Mana, actually. All the priests can do it. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Atem’s is a hell of a lot bigger.” Tou drops his chair back to the floor with a _clack,_ drumming the fingers of his left hand on the table as though impatient.

“True, but he’s much more powerful than me. In all honesty, I’m not much of a fighter.” Yugi points to the window, and Kuriboh bounds off through it. “I’m more of a strategic officer around here. I mean, look at the size of me. Finding armour that fits me is a chore and a half. It’s safer to keep me in the back!” Giggling to himself, he leans back in his chair, similar to Tou. His eyes fall onto Tou’s drumming fingers. “Touzo, was it?”

“Bakura,” he replies. “First name is Ryou’s privilege.”

“Bakura, then. You’re a smoker?”

“What gave it away?”

“You mean, aside from the yellowing on your fingers, and the smell of smoke on your clothes?” Yugi laughs. He pulls off the worn leather gloves encasing his hands and holds up the right, showing similar staining on his own fingers. “You still seem on edge, so please, feel free to light up in here.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Tou mutters, immediately digging into his pocket for his ever-present box of cigarettes. Yugi copies him, bringing out papers and tobacco to roll his own.

“Oh god, Yugi, don’t encourage him,” I groan.

“I’m a big boy now, Ryou,” Tou sighs. “I can make my own stupid decisions.” He lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag, closing his eyes. “I’m worried about Marik,” he admits. “I’ve seen some fucked up stuff in my time, but never anything like what’s happened to him.”

“We’re all worried,” I murmur, patting his shoulder.  

“I’ll take you over to the infirmary tent in a moment,” Yugi tells us gently.

“Thank you, Yugi.”

“No problem. I can see you’re all decent people. If you’re wanting to join us, I doubt anybody’s going to be opposed to it.” He takes a drag from his own cigarette and blows a smoke ring into the air. “I’ll hear back from Kuriboh in a couple of hours. Feel free to stay with your friend for as long as you need, but if you’re tired, I’ll show you where you can get some rest, and I’ll come and get you if Kuriboh comes back with anything worth mentioning. All the formal stuff can be sorted in the morning. That sound alright?”

“Works for me,” Tou says quietly. I nod, as does Kek.

I can’t believe it. We’re actually here, amongst the rebels, joining the fight for our lives.

Well, that’s if Marik ever recovers, that is.

Please, Marik. Please hold on.

 


	20. Yugi

The candles are close to snuffing out, but my thoughts run away with me, so I hardly notice until the first one collapses in a sorry puddle of wax, plunging one corner of the room into darkness.

Damn, I must have been sat here a while now.

Ryou, Touzo, Kek…what a peculiar bunch. They seem harmless enough, though. Kul Elna is the hometown of the two white-haired ones…I wonder if it was fate that we came here, for them to come to us like this.

I shouldn’t make all the decisions myself while Atem is away. He’s yet to respond to Kuriboh’s message, and he trusts me to do the right thing in his absence, but I know Seto would go spare. He hates it when he isn’t informed on the goings-on, and I can’t say I blame him in this day and age. Believe me, we’d love to just let anybody who can swing a sword in with us, but we’ve seen too many demons in disguise to be able to do that.

These guys, though…they’re fine. They brought us the Pendant of their own volition. No demon would willingly do that. And there’s also the matter of their friend. Marik, did they say? He’s sick, or injured. It seems difficult to tell.

Sighing, I blow out the smoke from my lungs and stub out the remains of my cigarette before pushing myself away from the table. Given the hour, Seto will be in the main tent, drafting up battle plans, and will probably be calling me anytime soon. The man never rests, I swear. Atem and Kisara are forever trying to get him to slow down, but he’d rather tear out his heart and feed it to Zorc himself. Oh, Kisara is Seto’s wife. It’s often said that Atem is the most talented beastmaster in Kemet, but really, it’s Kisara who should have that title. She’s incredibly powerful, but shy, and doesn’t like to fight, so it’s rare that anybody sees her _ka._ It’s said that when Seto did, he fell in love on the spot and asked her to marry him. I don’t know how true that is, but it’s amusing nonetheless.

The main tent is in the town square, not far from my house – well, I guess it’s not _really_ my house, given that none of us actually live here in Kul Elna, but it’s comfortable, and nobody else claimed it, so I stay here most of the time if I’m not needed. Before I can cross the room to the door, it opens and Jonouchi pops his head round, grinning. “Hey, Yuug! His Royal Beanpole Highness demands yer presence.”

I chuckle at that. “And I suppose he made you messenger boy?”

“Nah, I was on my way here anyway. You seen those new guys?”

“Mm. Anzu brought them over earlier. They seem nice. What do you think?”

Jonouchi rubs his chin thoughtfully. “One of em’s kinda grouchy - the one with the scarred face - but the other two, I don’ think we’ll have any problems with ‘em.”

“That’s good, then.” Jonouchi is always a good judge of character. It’s one of the reasons he prefers to stay on the main outpost. He’s hot-headed and quick to knock heads with people, but if he likes them, you’ll know about it, and that’s good enough for me. He, Honda and Anzu…I’m lucky to have them around, and grateful we made it out of the palace alive last year.

Jonouchi trails along beside me as I make my way to the tent. He and Seto don’t get on very well, in fact, they’re always fighting, but Kisara likes him. We give the sentries outside the tent a quick nod, and they let us pass through.

Seto is sat behind a desk that’s unnecessarily large, but that’s Seto for you. Everything he does is over the top and flashy, though not in a flamboyant sense. He just likes luxury and for everyone around him to know it. Bright blue eyes sparkle in an angular, arrogant face, and he only has three expressions – smug smirk, annoyed scowl, or brain-whirring frown. As we enter, we see him poring over various scraps of paper, occasionally flicking through the pages of a book perched on his knee. Kisara sits precariously on the edge of the table, pointing to one of the papers and murmuring softly to Seto. He’s got his frown on as he leans forward and peruses whatever it is she’s pointing at, but as he looks up to see Jonouchi and I, his smirk flickers back into place. “Took you long enough,” he says.

“Sorry, Seto,” I smile. “Lost in thought.”

“Get your head out of your ass, Yugi, and take a look at this, will you?” He shoves the paper Kisara pointed at towards me and leans back in his chair, scowling at Jonouchi, who just rolls his eyes.

Kisara smiles warmly at us both, however. “I just made up some tea, if you want some.”

“That’d be awesome, thanks,” Jonouchi beams.

“Yes, please,” I tell Kisara. Her cheeks light up in a blush and she hurries off to the other side of the tent. Kisara’s great, but she really doesn’t have to be so shy around all of us. Meanwhile, I pick up the paper and blink at it rapidly. “What’s this, Seto?”

“What does it look like?” he replies drily. “It’s Otogi’s recon report. He just got back now.”

_“Mahad’s hunch was right. The Ring seems to seek out its user’s desires, and when he thought about the Items, it began to direct him south, past Lux and Amarna. We came across an old crypt of sorts not far from Amarna, and the Ring’s resonance grew stronger therein, but we could only get so far in before traps and scrips in languages we couldn’t decipher blocked our way. Mahad asked us to head back north to Kul Elna and report in, but Mana refused to leave him so far behind to handle the crypt alone. In the end, we settled for remaining in Lux while we waited for Mahad to return._

_Demons attacked Lux unexpectedly a few days after we got to Lux, and though the usual forces were able to force the majority of them back, the arrival of general Terra turned the tides in the demons’ favour. In the end, it was Mana’s_ ka _that distracted Terra long enough for us to get to the scene. When we arrived, we found her without the Millennium Pendant, and thus were able to dispatch her with relative ease. It seems that her Pendant was either lost or stolen._

_Mahad returned to us a day later, and confirmed what we suspected – there is a Millennium Item in that crypt, but all efforts to reach it failed. It seems that this singular Item is separate from the generals, though why is anyone’s guess. For now, we will have to plan on how to enter, and take the Item for ourselves._

_I’m going to put bets on Zorc being pretty unhappy with the Pendant going missing, and what’s going on with this tomb is anyone’s guess. Keep an ear to the floor, guys. This could be about to turn messy.”_

Otogi’s report doesn’t bode well, but it matches up with the story told to me by the brothers and Kek earlier. Sighing, I put the paper down. “Atem needs to be told as soon as he returns.”

Seto nods grimly. “These damn Items are proving to be more trouble than they’re worth. Atem needs to hurry his ass up and finish training. I don’t care how big his _ka_ is, he needs to be here, not out in the wastelands where anything could attack him.”

Kisara laughs gently as she brings several mugs over on a tray. “You give him too little credit, Seto. Your cousin is more than capable of looking after himself.”

“So are you, but that doesn’t mean you should be running off every time you feel like it.”

She shrugs. “He’s the prince. He does what he likes.”

“That’s for sure,” Seto sniffs. “Stupid, stuck-up kid.”

Jonouchi scowls heavily, but I just shrug with Kisara and sip my tea, sighing at the warmth. Jonouchi looks to Kisara as she leans against the desk, scanning down Otogi’s report with a keen eye. “Whaddya think?” he asks her. “Looks like dangerous business, messin’ around wi’ these Items, but we got this, right?”

She glances up a moment and nods. “Dangerous indeed, but acquiring the Items is the best chance we have at defeating Zorc. Given that we already have one –”

“Two, actually,” I cut in. Carefully, I pull the Pendant out from my pocket and pass it over to Kisara.

“And you were going to tell us this, _when?!”_ Seto explodes.

“When you gave me a chance,” I laugh. “Four new guys came through here a few hours ago, and they had the Millennium Pendant with them. They’re the ones that took it from Terra.”

Jonouchi gives a whoop, punching the air with his fist. “Wow, that’s awesome! We got lucky fer sure!”

Seto’s eyes are narrow and suspicious. “I want to see them. Right now.”

“No, Seto.” I shake my head. “Leave it till Atem returns. One of their group is injured and they don’t need to be playing 20 Questions with you right now.”

“Yugi’s right,” Kisara tells Seto gently. “It’s late, and we should all be going to bed soon. I’m sure there will be much to discuss in the morning.”

“Fine,” he scowls, “but just know that I don’t like one bit of this.”

I open my mouth to retort, but at that moment, a squeak sounds from outside the tent. A few moments later, Kuriboh flies through, looking rather pleased with himself. “Hey, little guy,” I smile, scratching his head. “Any news for me?”

Kuriboh gives a few more squeaks, nodding vigorously. Everyone else just stares at him, unable to understand what he says, but I know, and I can’t help the wide smile creeping onto my face. “Thanks, Kuriboh,” I reply. “Great job!”

“What did he say?” Kisara asks as Kuriboh retreats.

“He said he ran into Atem as he was coming back to camp. He’ll be here in a few hours.”

Finally!

* * *

“It’s cold out tonight, huh?”

“Sure is.”

“Eh, I kinda like it. Bracin’, y’know?”

“You’re so strange, Jonouchi.”

Jonouchi, Anzu, Honda and I relax beside a campfire, beers in hand. The night watch have taken my friends off the outpost, so we’ve free reign to do with the night what we wish. We did ask Otogi if he wanted to join us, but he was so exhausted from his recon that he went straight to sleep pretty much as soon as he arrived back.

“Hey, you know what I just realised?” Honda muses, running a finger round the rim of his beer bottle. His eyes gaze into the flickering flames with a reminiscent, yet hurt, expression. “It’s been around a year now…you know…since we got out of the palace.”

Anzu dips her head, closing her eyes. “I thought we would die in there. I lost track of how long we were captives.”

“Slaves,” Jonouchi spits. “Say it like it is, Anzu. We were slaves of that damn demon an’ his horde.”

Sighing heavily, I take a drink of beer and set the bottle aside, resting my chin in my hands. “It’s hard to believe that it could have been so much worse, guys,” I murmur, “but we’re here, we’re alive, and we’re being of use to the rebels. Now I’m looking to the future, whereas previously I couldn’t even bring myself to look to the next hour. And you’re all here with me as I do that. I know it’s hard, but please know that we’re all here for each other.”

“Yugi…” Anzu whispers, tears glittering in her eyes. I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it before bringing it to my lips to kiss. “You were always so brave, Yugi.”

“Yeah, for a little guy, you sure had the biggest brain when it came to keeping us alive,” Honda agrees.

“We did what we had to do,” I say quietly.

“Some damn horrible stuff though,” Jonouchi spits.

Anzu shudders, clenching her clothes tightly around her body. I know she suffered worse than all of us. She won’t speak of it, can’t speak of it, but we all know. Compared to what Anzu went through, we got off lightly; I’d gladly take the scars and beatings any day over my bodily autonomy being ripped away from me, though if I could take away her pain, I would. I truly would. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Anzu, for any of my friends.

I still remember the day we were liberated like it was yesterday.

Gods…we were going to die, there was no other way around it. It was my fault. I thought I could get us out myself. Had it all figured out. Spent every waking moment planning, and planning, and planning…observing, taking in my surroundings, making note of weak spots in the walls and gaps in the guard patterns. On the rare occasions that I managed to see all my friends together, I’d tell them. Tell them to be prepared. I was going to raise the alarm, and during the distraction, I’d get us out. I _promised_ them.

But they caught us, and tortured us within an inch of our lives. Thrown into the dungeons, our wounds left to fester. Jonouchi fought back, refusing to lie down and die, but he was the only one. At that point, it had been three years in Zorc’s grip…I was ready to admit defeat. How could we escape now?

I gave up. The pain was too much.

That’s when we heard the fighting start. The pounding of feet on the floorboards above, the sounds of clashing metal, but above all, the _roar._ I’d never heard anything like it. It was otherworldly, draconic. It broke me out of my nihilistic haze, and curiosity overtook me. Could we live long enough to find out what was going on?

Then the dungeon doors were flung open, and unfamiliar voices were shouting.

_“There’s four in here! Alive!”_

_“Human?”_

_“Yes, human!”_

_“Get them out! Quickly!”_

_“Right away, Highness!”_

_“Hold on…let me take this one.”_

_“Of course.”_

It had been so dark in those dungeons, that when we were brought out, the light blinded us. I had to close my eyes and curl into the chest of whoever it was that carried me out, unable to even look at them, let alone thank them for saving me. For all we knew, they could have been out to kill us as much as the demons that enslaved us. But eventually, I managed to glance up, to see what had become of my friends, and, seeing them safe, I looked up further, at my saviour.

_"Hey...it's alright. You're safe now. We're getting you all out of here."_

Blood crusted my eyelashes and the light was still so bright that I could hardly see, but I could just about make out a kind, dark-skinned face and deep violet eyes. They were like my own...

 _"Who are you?"_ I managed to croak out.

_"My name is Atem."_

I think I passed out then, and details are hazy after that. When I was next aware of what was going on, we'd all been put into a deep sleep for days, so we could recover. That's when we met Mana, who had been helping to take care of us. Anzu burst out crying when she saw another friendly female, and they bonded instantly. I remember asking for Atem straight away, being all I remembered from the escape. I was the only one who felt strong enough to walk, so Mana took me, alone, to see Atem. The rebel camp was a lot smaller back then than it is now, and futher north, nowhere near Kul Elna. It was haphazard and thrown together with little organisation, but I didn't care. I was safe. My friends were safe. And I had to thank the man that literally swept me off my feet.

Atem had been curled up in a corner of his tent, reading, but when Mana brought me through, he smiled at me warmly and offered me the cushion he sat on, so I could be comfortable. We talked for hours, getting to know each other. I told him everything about our time as slaves, how we were intercepted crossing the border between Nihon - where we come from - and Kemet, drugged, and sold on to the demons. Atem seemed horrified that we had endured three years of torture, almost refusing to believe we could survive such misery. When I didn't feel I could talk anymore, Atem took the reins. He told me he had been the prince of Kemet, and should have been King, now his father was dead, but when the demons overran the nation, he was forced to flee for his life and forsake his crown. Being royalty didn't matter to him now, but he was going to do anything he could to regain control of his country fron the demon onslaught, and that meant taking Zorc head-on. That was why they stormed the palace that night, to kill as many demons as they could. It was by sheer luck that they found us.

 _"Can I join you?"_ I remember asking. _"The rebels, I mean."_

 _"This isn't child's play, Yugi. I won't allow someone so young to throw themselves in danger, not after everything you went through."_ Atem's expression had been soft and neutral, but his voice was firm.

_"Then why save us? You could have left us to die, but you saved us. Let me repay your kindness by fighting for you. We've all got our uses. I'm sure you can make something out of us."_

_"You speak for your friends?"_

_"We came here together. Nothing could tear us apart. If one of stays, all of us stay."_

Atem's deep eyes had closed then, pondering. Then he nodded. _"Fine. However, I accept no responsibility for your welfare henceforth. Take charge of your own destiny, little one."_

_"Please don't call me little one. It's bad enough being short without others making it an affectionate term."_

_"Very well...mou hitori no ore."_

I'd laughed at that. He really did look like me, and it sounded so strange coming from his mouth, my native tongue in his melodic Kemetian accent. _"Mou hitori no boku,"_ I grinned. I was younger, he was stronger and more confident, our methods of self-address obvious.

We've been joined at the hip ever since that day.

...

Oh, dear me. I seem to have gotten lost in thought again!

Our reminiscence goes on well into the night, and it waa only when Jonouchi begins drifting off that we realise we should turn in. Honda jabs Jonouchi in the ribs and drags him off, muttering curses under his breath, while Anzu kisses my cheek and bids me goodnight. I put out the fire and retreat back to the house I've claimed for the duration of our stay here. I wonder what Ryou and Bakura make of the fact that their hometown is being used as a rebel base. This little house could have been theirs for all I know. I don't want to be disrespectful...I'll check in with them tomorrow.

The house is cold, but the thick furs on the bed are warm. After some wriggling around to get comfortable, I feel my chilly extremities begin to return to life. Sighing, I close my eyes and nestle in deeper, hoping sleep will come easily.

"...Yugi? Are you awake?"

That voice...

"Just about," I murmur softly. "Mm...when did you get back?"

"Not even half an hour ago. May I come in?"

"Don't be stupid."

A soft laugh, then the door closes; I never even heard it open. A gentle weight depresses the side of the bed, then warm arms wrap round my waist and a nose nuzzles at my neck. "Did anyone see you?" I whisper.

"No." Soft breath washes over my skin, comforting and mellow. "Yugi, I don't like this sneaking about. Why must you insist on it?"

"I'd rather die than compromise your position."

"I don't care what anyone thinks."

"I don't care what they think about _m_ e. It's _you I_ worry for."

"Fuck them. Fuck them all. I love you. Is that so much of a crime?"

Gods, I wish he wouldn't say it so candidly. It hurts to keep our relationship a secret, but who would approve? There's little I can say, so I just turn around, bury my head in his chest and inhale the scent of lemongrass and sandalwood that surrounds him.

_"Aibou...mou hitori no ore."_

A gentle kiss lands atop my brow. "One of these days...I hope you'll be brave enough to admit what we have."

Atem...

I fear I will never have your bravery.


	21. Ryou

Marik spent most of his life underground, and came to us with dark skin, so I guess it’s in his genes more than from being out in the sun. Tou is a mixture of both, inheriting our mother’s more olive complexion, but picking up some colour from his years as a mercenary keeping him outside, baking and burning in the hot weather.

Seeing Marik this pale, gods…it’s scary. He’s like a ghost, and Tou isn’t far off, worry evident in every fibre of his being.

Kek and I are hanging back at the entrance to the infirmary tent, just watching, observing. It’s a huge tent, spacious, but almost deserted. Marik is the only one who’s in need of any treatment, and a single woman has been tending to him – a quiet and polite young girl named Isis. Yep, the same as Marik’s horse. She’s one of Atem’s priests, splitting her time between the infirmary and protecting her prince. At the moment, she’s come in to see to Marik, though she said to us that there wasn’t much she felt she could do, that he seemed stable despite his unresponsiveness. The rebels have little working knowledge on how the Millennium Items could affect those who weren’t compatible with them, so all we can really do is cross our fingers and hope he wakes up without any lasting damage.

“I’ve never seen Tou like this before,” I whisper to Kek. He looks down at me with a grimace twisting his handsome face, and I reach out to grip his arm, longing for something to anchor me. Does he blame himself for what happened? He wasn’t to know, though. None of us did. Despite the power I felt from it, it never even occurred to Tou or I that wearing the Pendant could be dangerous.

How stupid of me, to be so naïve.

Now, here Marik is, still as a corpse, and he could have been as dead as one, had he not still been breathing steadily. But there’s no signs of life behind his eyelids, no twitch of his fingers when Tou takes his hand in both his own, no response at all when Tou brushes his lips over Marik’s. Just…nothing. Not a damn thing.

“Marik…you’d better be able to hear me, wherever the fuck your mind is right now,” I hear Tou murmur quietly. He has his forehead pressed to the back of Marik’s hand, still grasping it firmly with his own. “We made it to Kul Elna, and you’re being looked after now. Whatever’s happening with you, we’ll get to the bottom of it, alright? We don’t know what’s going on and neither does anyone else around here, but just…just hang on for us. Don’t fall into the shadows. Give us some time to bring you back.”

He sighs, the little breath making his shoulders shake. “I’ll be damned if I made it this far, just for you to up and disappear on me…hang the fuck on…I’m not doing this without you, Marik. I can’t…”

All Tou’s earlier calmness has gone, and soft sobs drown out what else he would have wanted to say. It’s obvious his heart is breaking. Not the way it did when Amane died…no, this is different. This is a different kind of love, a different kind of despair.

I can’t stand to see him like this.

Kek glances back down at me. “We should go,” he mutters. “This is uncomfortable as hell.”

“You can say that again,” I sigh, “but he’s hurting, Kek. Can you blame him for being upset?”

“No. We shouldn’t be intruding, though. They deserve some privacy.”

I suppose he’s right. Slowly, I nod, and Kek wraps an arm round my shoulders, steering me away from the tent.  

Yugi showed us earlier where most of the soldiers slept, which turned out to be the old town hall. I never went in there much as a child, but I remember hopping up the entrance steps two at a time with my father, holding onto his hand so I wouldn’t fall over…I was four, and Touzo would have been eleven, Amane just a year old. Tou had walked on our father’s other side up those steps, carrying Amane in a woven sling on his back, hands in his pockets and whistling merrily. He used to be so happy back then, without a care in the world, back when our family was whole. After our parents died, he never smiled the same way again.

I barely register that we’ve reached our room till I feel soft warmth around me from the bedclothes. Kek fusses around me, wrapping me up securely, but there’s no joy in his actions. He can hardly even look at me. “Are you okay?” I ask gently.

Kek just frowns, running his hands down the sheets, smoothing out non-existent creases. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I don’t…I don’t know what this is.”

“Talk to me.” I sit up in bed, keeping the blankets round my shoulders. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“That’s just it, snowflake. I don’t know.” Kek drops his head into my lap, the same way he did that first night. Almost instinctively, my hands snake out from the blankets to weave through his coarse tangles of hair, stroking back stray wisps from his face. “It hurts,” Kek whispers, “in my chest, and in my stomach. I won’t throw up, but it feels as though I might.”

Oh, Kek. Even after all those years of strengthening yourself on Marik’s emotions, you never had the chance to know just _what_ it was you were taking on. You could feel every emotion in the world now, and not have a clue what labels to put on them.

“I don’t want to assume,” I say quietly, “but it sounds as though you feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Kek raises his head a fraction. “How so?”

“You told Marik to wear the Pendant, and he passed out as a result. You probably feel guilty for being the cause of it.”

Kek gives a little shudder, burying his head back into my lap. “I hate it,” he whispers. “Feelings are…so detrimental. I don’t want to feel. Ryou…I want it to go away. Make it go away.”

“I’m sorry,” I sniff. “I’m the one who brought you into the world. I forced this on you. _I_ should be the one feeling guilty.”

Purple eyes blink up at me in surprise, and before I know it, I’m flat on my back with a bulky weight on top of me. Fluttering kisses are pressed all over my cheeks, my forehead, my lips, and I feel hot droplets splash onto my skin. Kek is crying, sobbing softly and clinging to me as he continues to smother me with kisses. “I should have known what this feeling was,” he whispers. “I killed my father. I put Marik in a coma. I should have known!”

There’s no use in telling Kek to calm down. It would only make him worse, at this time when he’s still figuring out his emotions himself. I wrap my arms around him and draw him closer, nuzzling his shoulder and murmuring soft words of comfort. Eventually, his tears dry, and he settles against me, tender and quiet. His kisses become deeper, slower, focusing on my lips now, and I respond in kind, simply allowing myself the luxury of exploring him. The other night, we…we were drunk. There’s surely no other explanation for the way we ended up sleeping together. I don’t regret it, but I just wish I’d have gotten to know him a little better first. Now’s our chance, while we’re truly alone.

“Would it be weird of me to say I think I’m falling for you?” I giggle when Kek eventually gives me some breathing space. He smiles down at me, shakes his head, and comes down for another kiss.

Oh, gods…I’ll never tire of his lips, I just know it. Mmm…please don’t ever stop…


	22. Kek

Ryou’s asleep now. I think we both wore ourselves out from crying and kissing. Nestled against me and snuffling quietly, he’s the most perfect creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Fuck, he’s so gorgeous. What did I do to deserve literally being delivered into his soft, wonderful arms?

My heart hurts. I hate it…but I can’t let it stop because then I’ll lose my attachment to Ryou, so I’ll grit my teeth, and bear the pain, and try to accept the flood of emotion that comes with needing the sweet little kitten that stole me from the darkness. I can barely process what living makes me feel. I’m battling through, but there have been times over these last few days where all I’ve wanted to do is say “fuck it,” curl up into a ball and shut out the world. It’s overwhelming. I never realised that there was so much to take in, until I saw it all with my own eyes instead of Marik’s.

What a time to be alive, huh?

Ryou inhales deeply, then exhales as a soft sigh, rolling over onto his other side, facing away from me. I remain on my back, gazing up at the ceiling. I’m tired, and yet I don’t feel as though I can sleep. My mind is abuzz with the events of the day, and I just can’t drift off. Scowling and scratching absently at my ridiculous bird’s nest of hair, I wonder about my other half, passed out in a tent a few hundred feet away from us. Ryou called it guilt, and he’s probably right. I’ve never felt guilt till now. Nothing when I killed my father, nothing when I attacked Bakura, nothing when I gained my own body and threatened Ryou. Guilt just isn’t something that came to me when I was Marik’s shadow. I was borne of pain, vengeance and anger. What was guilt to me?

Well…now it’s everything. Fuck, I wish I could take it all back! Marik’s lying half-dead back there because of me, and we don’t know if he’ll ever wake up. If he does, will there be lasting damage? Will Ryou cry? I don’t ever want to see him cry. I think my heart would shatter like glass. Tears prick my own eyes at the thought of Ryou sobbing in anguish.

This is too much for me to deal with right now. If I were alone, I could throw something, smash a few delicate objects, scream, but with Ryou sleeping beside me, I wouldn’t dare breathe louder than a mouse’s squeak, so all I can do is stumble out of bed and try to find my way out of the building, find a place I feel safe enough to break down. Stupid fucking weak, useless tears blur my vision and I’m not sure where I’m going. Before I know it, I’m standing outside the tent where Marik is being looked after. My chest shakes and aches horribly as I dry my eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to gain control of myself. He shouldn’t see me like this…know that I’m like this. I’m the strong one…or I should be.

When I enter, I see Bakura is still sat by Marik’s bedside. Except for them, the tent is empty. Bakura has his nose in a book, but his eyes flick up when he sees me approach. “You look like hell,” he mutters, closing the book and placing it at the foot of Marik’s bed. “The fuck is up with you?”

“Shut up,” I snap. “How is he?”

“Same as ever.”

I kneel down beside Marik’s head and place a hand on his brow. He’s burning hot beneath my fingers. “Feverish,” I sigh. “This isn’t good.”

Bakura shakes his head. “I guess we just have to wait for him to ride this out.”

“What if he never wakes up?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he snarls in reply. “He survived his back being carved open as a child. He can survive this.”

My eyes bore into Bakura’s, inspecting their cinnamon-hued depths. “He survived the initiation because of me,” I tell him softly. “I protected him then, but I can’t protect him from this, Bakura. I threw him headlong into the shadows, and I can’t bring him back.” I feel the tears in my eyes again, and I scrub them away quickly. “How the fuck do you humans cope with this shit?” I grumble.

“With booze, usually,” Bakura shrugs, “or tobacco.” On cue, he reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and draws out a cigarette and lighter. His eyes flicker towards the exit, and I realise he’s asking me to go outside with him. Surprised, I do so, watching Bakura light the cigarette and take a long drag, his eyes sliding closed. After a few moments, he opens his eyes again and scowls at me. “What are you staring at?” he snaps.

I shake my head. “Father used to smoke,” I recall. “It always filled the air with a sickly scent. I didn’t like it. What you smoke is different, though.”

“Is it?” Bakura looks down at the little roll of paper and tobacco, and shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

“How long have you smoked for?”

“Must be going on eight years now.”

“Isn’t it bad for you?”

“Everything in this damn world is bad for you.”

I laugh at that. “Guess you’ve got a point.”

Bakura’s scowl lightens to more of a frown as he continues to watch me. After a time, he pulls the cigarette box from his pocket and holds it out to me. I eye the box with suspicion silently, and he laughs at me. “They’re not poisoned, idiot. You don’t _have_ to have one. I’m just offering.”

Something about the way Bakura handles himself as he smokes does look rather appealing. Shrugging, I accept the box and slide a cigarette out. Bakura passes his lighter over, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how it works, so he does it for me, rolling his eyes pointedly. The first drag makes me cough and splutter, my eyes watering, but the next few go down okay, and by the fifth, I’m finding myself enjoying the relaxation that softens the tension in my body. Tastes pretty gross, but it isn’t unbearable. I feel much calmer already; I can see why Bakura smokes so much.

“You’re a natural,” Bakura grins. “Ryou tried one once, and practically choked on it.”

“I couldn’t see him ever smoking,” I admit, tapping ash from the end of my cigarette. “He’s sleeping at the moment. I think he’s a little overwhelmed by all this.”

“That makes two of us,” Bakura mutters.

“Bakura…are you okay?”

“Why the fuck would you care?” he laughs bitterly.

“I don’t. Well...look, I can understand how you feel, okay? Marik was part of me once. It isn’t easy to see him like this.”

Bakura considers my words, then nods slowly. He raises a hand to rub his eyes, and I can see he’s completely exhausted from sitting with Marik all evening. “Go and get some fucking sleep,” I growl. “You’ll do yourself no favours staying up to watch him. Seriously, go. I’ll sit with Marik till morning.”

“I’m fine,” Bakura replies curtly.

“No, you’re not. Fuck, Bakura…we watched you cry over him earlier – ” I hold up a hand to silence him before he can splutter in protest, “ – so don’t even bother to try and lie that you’re “fine.” We are not having this argument. Finish your cancer stick, go to the town hall, find a bed and fall into it, dammit.”

Bakura glares at me like he’d love to just snap my neck there and then, but after a moment his eyes soften, and he nods. “Alright,” he murmurs. “I guess I am pretty worn out. Um…here, take these.” He presses a few cigarettes and his lighter into my hand. “You don’t have to, but, you know…they help with my stress. Seems they help yours too.”

I’m oddly touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Kura.”

A little smirk lifts the corner of his mouth at the use of his nickname. “Anytime, freakshow. See you in the morning.” Then he slips away into the darkness, leaving just a glimmer of silver in his wake from the moonlight shining on his hair.

Bitter, lashing out at the world, grouchy beyond compare…but Touzo Bakura seemingly has a softer, kinder side beneath the rough exterior he puts on. It’s easier than I thought to break down his walls. Who’d have thought a simple thing like sharing a smoke together would feel like bonding of sorts? Grinning, I stub my cigarette out and flick the remains away, then step back inside the tent to sit down beside Marik’s bed. Of course, Marik hasn’t moved an inch. He’s as still as the bodies that littered the tombs as they all fell to that accursed plague.

Why didn’t it touch us? Why did we survive?

I’ve so much to think on now I have a mind of my own.

The flap of the tent rustles, and I look up to see Isis entering. She looks remarkably alert despite the hour, and she flashes me a shy smile. “Hello. Has the other one gone to sleep?”

“Bakura? Yeah,” I reply. “I’m staying with Marik for a while.”

Isis crosses the floor to kneel beside Marik, feeling his brow, taking his pulse. She wets a cloth and wrings it out, then places it on his brow to cool him down. “Is he your brother?” she asks me. “You look very much alike.”

“In a manner of speaking,” I say.

“Are you worried for him?”

“We all are.”

Isis nods grimly, and turns away to curl up in a chair across from the bed. “I wish there were more I could do for him, but I have never seen anything like this before. The darkness within him is powerful indeed.”

Marik has known darkness beyond anybody’s comprehension, and he came out of it not whole, but intact at the very least. The fact that he can’t break out of this means nothing but bad things. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t. I can’t break down again.

So I just sigh, and lean my head against the foot of the bed, shoving Bakura’s discarded book aside. It doesn’t come easily, but sleep eventually overtakes me.

 


	23. Bakura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Smut ahead! Enjoy and all that. There's not much, but I feel like I've been neglecting the raunchier stuff lately, so here, have some short sexy stuff._

* * *

In my dreams, he’s there. He’s awake, and well, and kissing me until I can hardly breathe. Gods, I want to lose myself in it all…

_“I’ve never done this before.”_

_“Hey, don’t worry about it.”_

_“Am I…doing okay?”_

_“Oh…fuck yes.”_

_So warm, so sweet…Marik’s mouth is around me, and I’m just about going out of my fucking mind. He’s on his knees before me, hair bobbing over his shoulders as his head moves back and forth. Every so often, his eyes flick up to look at me, and the haunting lavender of his orbs never fails to steal my breath away. Dammit, I’ve fallen for this kid hard. I said I never would, but I did, so fuck it, let’s roll with it, and I’m so glad I decided to kiss him that night at Yuji’s, because my god, I’ve never felt this way about_ anyone _before_. _I want him, all of him._

_I push Marik away so I can drop down on all fours, glancing back over my shoulder with a smirk. Marik’s eyes are wide, a wonderful mix of apprehension and excitement crossing his face. “Do you trust me?” he whispers._

_I just laugh and gesture for him to come closer. “Take your time,” I tell him._

_“Let me know if I need to do anything different.”_

_“Sure.”_

_A delightful tingle of pleasure shoots up my spine as the first finger slips in, then another. My back arches, my head drops back, and I moan, unashamed, lost already in the moment. I can’t resist running my fingers over my cock as Marik pumps me._

_Then his fingers are gone, and a whole new surge of pressure and pleasure assaults my senses. Marik’s fingers dig into my hips and his cock spreads me wide open before pushing inside. God fucking damn, he’s fucking huge, oh, fuck, fuck –_

_“Fuck! Marik!”_

_“Ku…Kura…it’s t-tight…”_

_So good, so fucking good. I couldn’t even censor my cries of ecstasy if I wanted to, and Marik is panting and groaning behind me as he pushes in and out, testing the waters; it’s his first time, after all. His shaky, novice thrusting soon becomes confident surges of his hips, and our voices rise in a maddening crescendo until –_

_“Tou! Tou!”_

_Wait…that’s not right…_

_“Tou, wake up!”_

Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!

Morning hits me like a smack in my sexually-frustrated face, along with my brother shaking my shoulders like I’m some kind of rag-doll. I let my extreme displeasure be known with a low growl as I bat Ryou’s hands away and shove myself upright in the bed I claimed when I stumbled, half-asleep, into the makeshift barracks of the town hall. Gods, they’ve made a fucking mockery of this place. Remind me to kick his Majesty’s royal ass later for that. “Get _off_ me, Ryou,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes. “What do you want?”

“We’re being summoned,” Ryou frowns down at me, and I’m suddenly rather aware of the painful bulge in my trousers. I twitch the blankets over my lap so Ryou can’t see the product of my dreams. “Make yourself look presentable or something. Atem’s expecting us in the command tent.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Is he now?”

“Don’t give me that look, Tou. I know what that means. You’re going to keep him waiting for ages and turn up looking like you’ve run backwards through a hedge.”

“Damn fucking right.”

“Can you not be respectful in your life, just this once?” Ryou snaps at me, and I almost recoil in surprise before catching myself. After a moment, I sigh and wave a hand at him dismissively, and he stalks away, arms folded. Damn, he’s wound up tight. He’s taking everything pretty badly if he’s mad enough to start losing his temper. I don’t need that today…guess I’d better please him.

There’s likely no time to bathe or shower, and in any case, I don’t really want to go walking around here alone just yet. My current clothes are ripped, frayed and honestly don’t smell too good, so I chuck them off and grab whatever I can find from the bottom of my bag, which turns out to be dark blue jeans, loose black vest and a spare red hoodie. It looks cold out, so I throw my trench coat on over that and then try to sort out the mess that is my hair. Eventually I manage to tame it into a braid, and step out into the remains of the town I once called my home.

It's barely changed, but is unrecognisable all the same. I meant what I said to Ryou, “fuck how it looks,” but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel fucking weird to be back here, seeing how it is now. I was what, eleven, twelve, when I left here? Feels like forever. Being back here…it’s stirring up a lot of emotion that I’d rather just push aside, because I’m not strong enough right now to cope with it. When Marik wakes up, sure, we’ll talk, but at present, everything can fuck off.

I stop off briefly at the stable to check over the horses, and they’re doing fine. Then I make my way to what I assume is the command tent, the big fucking massive thing in the middle of town with guards outside. That little dude, Yugi, is talking with one of them, and he waves me over when he sees me. He really is so damn _short…_ and everyone ribs me for being puny!

“Good morning,” he smiles up at me. “Did you sleep well?”

I eye him with the most withering look I can muster. “Really, Yugi?”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question. Sorry.” He laughs awkwardly, scratching his head. “Anyway, you’d best go through. Atem’s been itching to talk to you guys since he got back last night.”

Oh, this is going to be fun. I haven’t seen Atem in a few years now, but he never changes. He’s always an ass, and we bounce off each other well enough, but I still hate him. Gesturing for Yugi to go through first, I stick my hands in my pockets and duck through the tent flap.

First thing I see is the huge desk and the beanpole sat behind it. Seto really hasn't changed at all. Still lanky, still scowling, still holier-than-thou. A young boy with similar features sits in a chair next to him, busily writing away in a scroll and barely even acknowledging me, and a willowy, silver-blue haired woman flits around the room with a book in hand, seemingly checking inventory. She flashes me a smile as she passes me, and I nod in return.

Ryou and Kek are here as well, talking quietly in a corner with his royal Arrogance himself. Yep, he hasn’t changed one bit. Still the same haughtiness in his gaze, still the same stupid hair. His clothes are different – seems he favours golden jewellery and dyed linens when he isn’t armoured – but that’s all.

His eyes lift away from Ryou’s to meet with mine, and a small smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “Touzo Bakura, as I live and breathe,” he murmurs. “I honestly never thought you’d come to us willingly. I got quite the shock when I found out you were here.”

I roll my eyes as I come closer. “I’m home. Had nothing to do with you or your stupid band of rebels.”

“Tou,” Ryou chides.

“No, Ryou…it’s fine.” Atem holds up a hand to Ryou, looking amused. He draws himself up to his full height – which isn’t much more than Yugi’s – and extends his other hand out to me. “It’s good to see you again, nevertheless. We’ve much to talk about.”

I consider his hand for a moment, then scowl and slap it away. “I’m not here to exchange pleasantries, asshole,” I hiss. “Cut the crap and tell me what I need to know so I can get the fuck out of here already. You know what’s happened, surely. I’ve better places to be.”

“You will show some respect to your prince!” Seto snaps.

 _“My_ prince?” I laugh. “He isn’t _anyone’s_ prince.”

Atem looks irritated, but not at me. “Peace, Seto,” he says firmly. Seto scowls, but lapses back into silence. “Ah, please forgive him,” Atem says softly to us. “He’s rather highly strung. Um, I guess I should offer you all somewhere to sit, but we’re low on chairs in here, so I’ve had all this brought in.” He waves a hand towards a mass of pillows a few feet away from us. Gotta admit, they look comfy. I sling myself into the pile, and Ryou follows suit, sitting down on my left, with Kek on his left. Yugi takes the space on my right, and Atem sits in front of all of us, twitching his cloak out from under his knees. “So, you’ve met Seto,” Atem says, “and that’s Mokuba, his brother. They’re my cousins, and Seto is also head of my priests. Over there, that’s Kisara, Seto’s wife. And of course, you met aibou last night.”

“Aibou?” Kek asks, wrinkling his brow.

Yugi raises a hand. “That’s me. “Aibou” means “partner” in my native language.”

Ryou smiles at that. “You’re from Nihon, aren’t you? Our father was, too.”

“Nihon born and bred,” Yugi nods. “You have the look of Ezo around you, though. When did you come to Kemet?”

“When I was very small, but I’ve lived here most of my life. Lived here till I was five, then we lived in Amarna till very recently.”

“I bet things have been tough for you guys.”

“They have, but we’ve fought through, same as you.”

Yugi reaches over my lap to squeeze Ryou’s hand gently. “I think we’re going to be good friends, Ryou.”

“Me too, Yugi.”

Oh god, they’re so sickening. Even Kek looks like he might throw up, though he’s probably just wondering what would be the funniest way to send Yugi into the shadows as punishment for touching my brother. Atem looks back and forth between them with a pleased expression. “Seems like you’re all getting on well enough,” he says quietly. “Now, down to business. Yugi told me most of the details earlier this morning, so I won’t ask you again, but this business with the Pendant…” He draws it from a fold in his cloak and turns it over in his hands, frowning at it. “I’m to understand that it has had a negative effect on one of your companions. Mahad is on his way here to look at it, as he is the only one who possesses another of these Items. He may be able to tell us more about why your companion has been affected like this.”

“Marik,” I mutter, clenching my hands into fists.

“Hm?”

“His name is Marik. At least learn his fucking name if you’re going to talk about him.”

“I apologise.” Atem’s eyes soften a little. “You’re close.” It was a statement, not a question, and grudgingly, I nod. “You…love him.” Another statement, to which I nod again after a few moments of hesitation. Yugi blinks at me, surprised, but Atem mirrors my nod. “Bakura…we’re going to do whatever we can to bring Marik round, I promise you. Give us time. We’re as new to this as you are. The fact that you’ve turned up here with a Millennium Item must be fate. It’s good to have you at my side again.”

“Hmph.” I lean back and fold my arms, scowling heavily. I won’t let this arrogant piece of shit worm his way into my heart. He’s no right.

At that moment, the tent flap rustles, and a tall man in robes sweeps towards us. A slight clink of gold catches everyone’s attention, and Ryou gasps to see a circular ring resting on his chest. Five little prongs hang from it, and a triangle with an eye sits in the middle of the ring.

Another Millennium Item…so this must be Mahad.

“My apologies for my lateness, your Highness,” Mahad murmurs, inclining his head, then giving a stiff nod to Seto, who returns it. Ugh, formalities.

“Don’t be silly,” Atem smiles. “Sit down, please.”

Mahad does so, and Atem passes the Pendant to him. Like Atem, Mahad turns it over a few times in his hands, inspecting it. He and Atem exchange a few words, then he passes it back. “I feel a powerful darkness inside it,” Mahad says, “though that is to be expected from such objects. And yet…there is some benevolence within, also. It is overshadowed by the evil, but I can feel its presence.”

“You’re better than me, then,” Ryou observes. “I couldn’t feel anything but evil inside it. And your Ring…it’s even worse.”

That seems to surprise Mahad, and I have to fight not to laugh. Ryou’s always overlooked as being soft and useless, but he’s far from it. “You are…a mage?” Mahad asks him, and he nods. “Impressive. You must have been through much to attain your powers.”

“Indeed.”

“We’re in agreement about the Ring. It is infinitely more dangerous than the Pendant. This is why I keep it close, to keep an eye on its powers until I can ascertain what can be done to exorcise it, if possible.” Mahad touches the Ring, frowning a moment. “I believe you may all be of use to us. To have brought us an Item says much about your potential. Highness, have you told them about Otogi’s report?”

“Ah, not yet,” Atem says, shaking his head. He fills us in quickly on the details, then leans back on one arm, fluffing up his ridiculous hair with the other. “It’s going to be a battle and a half to locate the rest of the Items, but this really is our only chance at getting to Zorc. The closest we got was last year, when we…ah…” He falters and trails off, his eyes locking onto Yugi for a moment before flitting away. “Anyway,” he continues, “Mahad’s right. Ryou, Bakura, and…it was Kek, wasn’t it?” Kek nods silently, and I scowl, seething that he can remember Kek’s name but not Marik’s. “I would very much like you to join our ranks,” Atem tells us. “You’re clearly all capable fighters, and I have fought alongside Bakura enough times to vouch for his strength and anyone who he deems worthy to be with him. Ryou, you were a lot younger last time I saw you, but you have the face of a seasoned warrior now. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do. And Kek, I apologise that I can’t speak for you, as we’ve only just met, but I’m sure you won’t disappoint me.”

Kek’s tongue lolls out of his mouth as he gives Atem a lopsided grin. “Just say the word, Highness, and I’ll give you a _good_ demonstration.”

Ryou laughs at Kek’s goofy expression, but I just feel anger surging and boiling inside me. I can’t hold it back any longer, and I thump a fist on the ground, snarling, “We’re not here to impress you, Atem! God forbid anyone hold a conversation without you making it all about yourself! Stop being so fucking high and mighty for once in your spoiled fucking life.”

Atem raises an eyebrow at me, nonplussed. “Then why _are_ you here, pray tell?” he asks me in a voice so controlled, it could burn through steel.

“Fuck you. Don’t ask stupid questions. Put that fucking Pendant on and drop dead for all I care.”

“Touzo Bakura, you apologise right now!” Ryou gasps, smacking me round the back of the head.

But Atem’s eyes glitter sardonically and he smirks at me. “Hmmm…you know I enjoy a good game, Bakura. Very well.”

“Atem, don’t be ridiculous!” Yugi shouts, but it’s too late – Atem picks up the Pendant and slips it round his neck.

…

…

Nothing happens.

“Well?” Atem laughs, flicking the Pendant and then flicking his hair out of his eyes. “I’m not dead, Bakura. I would say you lost this game, and I won.”

Oh, fuck you, you absolute prick.

“Are you an idiot?!” Yugi yells, throwing a pillow at Atem’s head before lunging for him and attacking him with feeble strikes. “That could have killed you! You’ve not even _seen_ Marik yet! You haven’t seen what that thing did to him! You fucking idiot, Atem! I could strangle you right now!”

Seto, Mahad and Ryou all look aghast at Yugi’s behaviour, but Kek and I burst out laughing. Atem looks humbled for once, blushing as he fights off Yugi’s blows.

“Will you all stop that this instant!” Seto’s voice cracks like a whip across the tent. “Atem, you are a prince, so act like it, and act your age!”

Atem’s blush deepens. “Sorry, Seto.”

Holy fuck, I never thought I would see this day. New material to rub in Atem’s face next time we have a scrap.

Hmmm…things might just turn out better here than I originally thought.

 

 


	24. Marik

* * *

_Sometimes I just stand here, under the one miniscule opening to the heavens, and listen to the world above us. That single beam of light that filters down to the tombs and illuminates my face is like an angel’s caress._

_I’d love to know what’s out there someday. I’ve read books and tomes and goodness knows what else, and I know the dangers of the outside world; the demons have overrun it, and that’s the very reason we’re down here, for our own protection. Still, though…doesn’t anybody get bored of this perpetual darkness? I do. I’m so bored that I memorised my father’s dictionary, and now I know long words like illuminate and perpetual. I’m only nine years old and I’m fed up with life down here._

_“Marik!”_

_My sister’s voice makes me turn my head away from the light, and I smile widely to see her walking towards me. Ishizu is always so silent, gliding around on slipper-clad feet. We play games together, and she reads me stories, and when I’m ill, she bundles me up in bed and looks after me. I love her so much. What better big sister could there be?_

_“I swear, you’ll hurt your neck someday from staring up there,” Ishizu chides me softly. “Come on now, brother. It’s time for prayers.”_

_“Sister, don’t you ever wonder what’s up there?”_

_She shakes her head. “No. This is our place. We are protected here, and safe.” Taking my hand, she gives a gentle tug. “Come on. Father won’t be happy if we’re late.”_

**_Sister…Ishizu…_ **

_She’s right, and thank goodness I have her here to remind me. Time and dates just pass me by down here, but Ishizu is clever, and she knows when and where the day has gone. She has well and truly taken on the mantle of mother, since ours died last year. It’s been so hard to adjust to life without Mother, but somehow, we made it through._

_Rishid meets us at the entryway to the prayer room, inclining his head to us. He’s always so formal, and you’d think he was stiff from it, and stoic, but he’s very soft and kind. Ishizu smiles up at him, and I reach out to take his hand, swinging cheerfully between them as we walk. “What has you in such high spirits today, Master Marik?” Rishid asks me. He’s my brother, so he shouldn’t have to address me so highly, but Father says I’m the “heir” to this horrible tomb, and he insists Rishid, being adopted, has to serve Ishizu and I and address us respectfully._

_“I think I heard a bird outside!” I grin. “It was very quiet, but chirpy and sort of tweety. I read a book about birds once, and it said they sounded exactly like what I heard. Isn’t it marvellous?”_

_“Absolutely,” Rishid replies. “We shall look through that book together after prayers, and you can show me the pictures, if you like.”_

**_Rishid…_ **

_“Yeah! That sounds awesome!”_

**_What’s going on…?_ **

_The prayer room is buzzing with activity as our peers scrub down their hands and faces with lukewarm water. Father says it’s wasteful to heat it up too much if all we’re doing is washing up a little. The eldest wash first, then the women, then the children. As Father says I am heir to the tomb-keeper’s cult, I should have the privilege of going first, but he isn’t here yet, so I hang behind with Ishizu and Rishid till it’s their turn._

_I’ve just finished drying my face when our father walks in. He’s only around forty or so, but he looks a lot older because of his knotted beard and hooded eyes. Like the rest of us, he wears loose, undyed robes of a simple linen, but his status is marked by the golden jewellery at his throat and ears that he says he will pass onto me when I come of age._

**_Father, what…?_ **

_Father holds up his sceptre, a majestic golden object with a large, rounded head and sharp terminations either side, and as if on cue, we all drop to a kneeling position. “Let us honour our great lord and protector,” he calls out. He then kneels before the King’s altar and places the sceptre upon it._

_As one, we recite the sacred text:_

_“Great lord, ruler of the past,_

_Guide us not into the darkness,_

_Though memories of yore be cold and still,_

_Your presence directs our future._

_Great lord, your servants are near,_

_We honour, we love, we care,_

_We thank you for your protection,_

_And solemnly swear ourselves to you for eternity.”_

**_I…I always hated this prayer…_ **

**_Where am I?_ **

**_And why am I viewing my past?_ **

**_Oh, gods, what’s going on?!_ **


	25. Atem

 

* * *

Our newest additions have been welcome indeed…well, mostly, anyway. Really, I should have expected little else.

Ryou has barely changed since I saw him last, always such a sweet young man. He seems to have captured the hearts of everyone within our ranks, and has been working closely with the priests so he can further understand the extent of his new magical abilities. I was informed about the passing of his sister, Amane, and Ryou’s recovery from the trauma of her death triggering his newfound strength. I never met Amane, but I heard much about her in the times I rode with Bakura, and I am sad for them that she is gone from this world.

As for Bakura, he isn’t taking his lover’s deteriorating condition very well. It has been a week since the group arrived in Kul Elna, and Marik has shown no improvement. Bakura has become increasingly nervous and jumpy, so we’ve all just taken to leaving him alone for the time being. Isis has tried everything she knows, but it seems that for the moment, Marik must remain bound by the Pendant’s mysterious powers.

Kek, the one who looks like Marik – I thought they were brothers, but apparently not, and Kek is reluctant to explain – is surprisingly shy and withdrawn considering his appearance. If anything, I had expected him to be more boisterous and intimidating than Bakura, but for the most part, he remains by Ryou’s side, saying little and interacting even less. He is prone to temper, and doesn’t appear to be the most stable mentally, but a soft word from Ryou, and he calms down almost straight away. It’s very impressive, to say the least.

I can forget these negatives, however, because they make up for everything through their sheer raw power. I’ve watched them during sparring sessions and magic casting; they’re incredibly capable, just as I knew they would be. Bakura and Otogi train together like they were made for each other, and both Ryou and Kek weave spells I never knew existed.

So, after some deliberation, I came to a decision with Seto and Kisara. It’s about time our new recruits were put to the test. Bakura might be handier with a blade than I am, but this is one area I’m certain the grouchy mercenary will never surpass me in, and certainly not Kisara.

“How much fucking further?” said grouchy mercenary yells at my back.

“Not far now!” I call over my shoulder. “I trust you can hold on for another five minutes?”

“Fuck you, Atem!”

Saddled and mounted, myself, Yugi, Kisara, Ryou and Bakura ride through the wastelands to the training spot we reserve for higher-levelled summoning and magical practice. Kek has opted to remain behind, saying he would rather watch over Marik for the time being and get some archery practice in.

It’s been nice to chat with Kisara without Seto glaring at me like a jealous puppy. I love my cousins, but Seto loves to impose royal standards and protocols on me, and doesn’t half get annoyed when I fling them aside to mingle and get myself involved like any other person. I _am_ any other person right now, and I don’t think he realises that, or wants to. Kisara, though…she’s been by my side a long time, and I love her like a sister. When she came to us as a child, she was half-starved and near death, and Seto and I took her on ourselves. She’s fiercely loyal beneath that shy exterior, and would rather die than do anything to endanger us or our cause.

Upon reaching the training area, we dismount and tether the horses, and Yugi sees to giving them some food while Kisara talks quietly with Ryou and Bakura. I hang back, watching Yugi fuss over Ryou’s horse, Amie. He catches me staring and flashes me a smile. “Feeling alright, love?” he asks quietly.

“Of course, aibou,” I reply, smiling back. I jerk my thumb back over my shoulder, towards Ryou and Bakura. “Do you think they will have any luck with this?”

“Oh, yeah,” Yugi nods, “especially Ryou, if his _heka_ levels are anything to go by. I’ve got high hopes for Bakura as well.” Stepping away from the horses, he lights a cigarette and leans back against a jagged outcrop of rock. My nose wrinkles a little in distaste, but I know better than to chastise Yugi for smoking. Given everything he has been through, the torture and the slavery at Zorc’s hands, I can begrudge him the tobacco. It could be much worse, and I’m just glad he made it out in one piece. If this is what it takes for his mind to heal, then so be it.

I leave Yugi to it, and approach our companions. Bakura glares at me the whole time, but Ryou just clasps his hands and waits expectantly. “Sit down,” I tell both of them, and they do so. Kisara and I sit opposite them, Yugi observing from the back. “We’re going to try and teach you how to summon _ka,”_ I explain. “Not everyone can do it, but I’m sure both of you will be able to pull it off with relative ease.”

“Why now?” Bakura asks, folding his arms over his chest. “We’ve worked together before. Why not years ago?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t have faith in your abilities back then, Bakura,” I reply gravely. A flicker of affront crosses his face, but he just scowls and says nothing back. “What I mean to say is,” I continue, “summoning your _ka_ can be dangerous if you overdo it, and especially if you are injured. You must remember, in those years we fought alongside each other, you were a reckless fighter, and I feared if I showed you how to harness your _ka,_ you would kill yourself in the attempt.”

“Pffft! You sure do think highly of yourself, don’t you? The mighty prince with more power than anyone else.”

“Bakura,” Kisara says gently, “our life force, or _ba,_ in combination with our reserves of magic energy, or _heka,_ is the drive behind being able to summon _ka._ It isn’t a case of simply being unable to call them forth if we lack full power. Rather, we could call upon our _ka_ at any time, but the power they expend means that we must be excellent judges of our limits. If we are injured, and call forth our _ka,_ the resulting drain could be fatal. This is why it isn’t taught lightly.”

After a moment, Bakura nods in understanding. Yugi joins us, squatting down beside me with an arm resting over his knees, the other holding out his half-smoked cigarette to Bakura, who takes it with a smirk and brings it to his lips, inhaling. “It isn’t all doom and gloom, though!” Yugi says brightly. “You’ve seen my Kuriboh. He’s a tiny little thing, and hardly takes anything from me to summon. Atem and Kisara, their _ka_ are massive, and require huge amounts of _ba_ to call forth. It’s all a case of knowing what you’re capable of, and being able to recognise when it might be too dangerous to try.”

“So, smaller _ka_ demand less _ba?”_ Ryou asks.

“That is often the case,” Kisara replies, “but not always. For example, Mana and Mahad both command human-sized _ka._ However, Mahad’s requires much more _ba_ to summon, despite there being little difference in size. Again, knowing your limits is of vital importance.”

“And you think we’ll be able to do this?” Ryou’s eyes are wide with concern. “It sounds dangerous.”

“Don’t worry,” I reassure him. “This is as good a time as any to try. We’ll cut the process off immediately if we sense you’re in danger.”

Ryou and Bakura look at each other and exchange knowing nods after some deliberation. “Alright, let’s do it,” Bakura grins, flicking the remains of his cigarette away.

“Fantastic,” Kisara beams. “Well, shall we begin? We will need to hold your hands…Ryou, may I?”

Ryou holds his hands out easily enough, but Bakura growls deep in his throat and edges back, jamming his own hands between his knees. I can’t help but laugh at how childish he is. “Come now, Bakura,” I purr, winking at him, “I can assure you my hands are lovely and soft. You’re missing out by _not_ touching them.”

“I’m sure there are others here who would be dying to caress your perfect palms right now,” Bakura replies, smooth and cold as ice. Yugi raises an eyebrow at him in response, while I try my hardest to keep my expression nonplussed. At a sharp word from Ryou in their native tongue, Bakura sighs and extends his hands out, allowing me to take them. Just to annoy him further, I run my thumbs over the backs of his hands, and the resulting glare is worthy of its own gilded photo frame.

“Close your eyes…” Kisara murmurs, “and focus on our _ba…_ can you feel it? The connection may be weak now, but keep focusing, and you will find it, and feel it strengthening…”

“I can feel it,” Ryou whispers. “Wow…”

“Yep, I’ve got it,” Bakura agrees.

“Good. Now…try to find that same connection within yourself. It may not feel much like ours, but now you have felt another’s life energy, you should be able to locate your own, and it will guide you to your _ka._ When you find it, we will examine its strength.”

Kisara’s voice is hypnotising. I’ve only ever heard her take charge of this ritual once before, and everybody came out of it so relaxed it was a wonder she didn’t put them all to sleep. I watch Bakura intently as his scowl smooths out in response to her gentle guidance, and gradually, I feel his _ba_ begin to ebb and flow, rising and falling like waves on the coastline. Uncertainty radiates from him, but he keeps his eyes closed and he breathes deeply, remaining calmer than I’ve ever seen him. At the point I feel him find a good grasp on his _ba,_ he squeezes my hands at the same time. “Well done, Bakura,” I smile. “I’ll take a look at it now, and see what I can find…”

Yugi shuffles closer and places a hand atop mine as I send out a tendril of my own _ba,_ feeling out for Bakura’s. Bakura jerks slightly and growls, clearly displeased by the invasion and being able to feel Yugi’s energy too, but he doesn’t pull away, nor does he open his eyes. “Easy, aibou,” I murmur. “Don’t spook him.”

“Sorry. Just curious. I’ve not seen you do this before.”

Together, we feel out Bakura’s _ba,_ and it doesn’t take us long to grasp it gently, to let ourselves be guided towards the spirit within Bakura’s body. I gasp at its purity, an almost holy light shining from within every mortal fibre of the man’s being. The sheer power I can feel from it is almost overwhelming, and I have to grip Bakura’s hands tighter to anchor myself, lest my own _ba_ detach. “It’s…it’s extremely powerful,” I whisper, “but I can tell you will be able to summon your _ka_ with no trouble. Bakura…look deep in your heart, and tell me the name that comes to you. That is your _ka.”_

Bakura’s lips lift in a satisfied smile, and he breathes one word –

“Diabound…”

Instantly, I feel the drop in Bakura’s _ba,_ but his hands are still, his heart remains steady. His eyes open and he looks to the sky, his smile devolving back into his regular smirk. “Well, hello there, big guy.”

Holy mother of Osiris.

Floating above us is a humanoid figure resembling a _naga_ , at least four times the size of a regular person and almost completely white, a testament to the purity I felt within Bakura. A horn adorns its brow, and feathery protrusions sprout from its back, leading round to a densely muscled torso terminating in a serpentine tail. It appears frightening and beautiful and majestic all at the same time, and it takes me a few moments to realise we’re all still holding each other’s’ hands, but Bakura pulls his away and stands so he can hold them out to Diabound.

Descending to the ground, Diabound extends its own hands, and when their fingers touch, Bakura laughs, a light, lilting cadence of melody that rips away his tough exterior, and we see, truly, for the first time, the bare bones of the young man before us, just as vulnerable and in pursuit of peace as any one of us.

A soft cry to our left draws us away from Diabound, to look at Ryou and Kisara. Despite the sun beating down on us, Ryou’s face is almost sickly in its pallor, and Kisara doesn’t look far off either. His _ka_ has been summoned, and it’s unlike anything I have ever seen. Tall and willowy, with deep blue skin, almost elven in appearance…but there’s a demonic aura surrounding it. She holds something in her arms resembling a broken doll, and when she shifts it to her hip, we can see the flesh of her abdomen is falling away, revealing blackened bones underneath.

“What…what the _fuck_ is that?!” Bakura splutters. “What fucking demon shit did you just spawn, Ryou?”

To our surprise, the colour quickly returns to Ryou’s cheeks, and he giggles. Kisara gapes at him, open-mouthed in shock, and Yugi grabs hold of my arm, blinking rapidly. “This is Necrofear,” Ryou tells us. “She looks pretty creepy, huh?”

Creepy, uh…isn’t a strong enough word here…

“I can’t believe it,” Kisara murmurs. “The dark presence that resonated from Ryou’s _ka_ was immense, and yet, there is no evil in the boy’s heart. How he has summoned a malevolent _ka_ is beyond me…”

Ryou shrugs. "I’ll explain everything later, but it does make sense, believe me.”

Diabound and Necrofear exchange glances, and then, completely shocking us all, they raise hands to each other, bumping fists. The apprehension on Bakura’s face melts away to sheer glee, and he grabs Ryou in a headlock, knuckling his brow. Ryou bats at him feebly, but he doesn’t really look too bothered by the rough display of affection. “Well done, guys!” Yugi cheers. “That was absolutely amazing! I’m really glad I came along to see you in action.”

“Yes,” Kisara agrees, gliding to my side and taking my other arm, “and now…I believe it’s time to see just what their _ka_ can do.”

Bakura lets go of Ryou and raises an eyebrow. “Sparring time?”

“Sparring time,” I nod.

“Oh, fuck yes. Get that dragon out of you, Atem, and let’s go at it.”

“Oh, Bakura,” I laugh, “I’m not the only one who controls dragons around here.” Patting the hand Kisara has on my arm, I continue, “I hope you’re ready to witness the power that had Seto himself on his knees.”

* * *

 For all her magnificent strength, Kisara required a lot of training to be able to control when her _ka_ emerged. When she first came to the palace, she was a fragile thing, and stayed away from anything that might cause her any exertion. It wasn’t until adulthood, years after the demons came, that we first saw her _ka_. She was ill, and had passed out from exhaustion. Seeing that enormous creature was terrifying, to say the least, because none of us knew where it had come from, but once brought round, Kisara was able to explain to us that it was hers; she had avoided civilisation for years as best she could, because she was afraid of her power, and suppressed it as much as she could, so much so, that it only appeared if she was unconscious.

It took a few years, but after some tutelage under Mahad and Seto, she was able to actively control and summon by herself. I think…she was happier by that point as well, having married Seto. I’m convinced it helped her stabilise.

She used to be so scared of her potential, but looking at her now…it’s hard to believe she is the same timid little girl who came to us so many years ago.

“I call upon thee, denizen of the skies!” Kisara calls. Her arms are spread out as if she could fly, her face upturned to the whispers of cloud. “Heed my call, unfurl thine wings, and come unto me in my time of need! I summon thee, white dragon, Azrael!”

My turn. “I call upon thee, celestial master! Descend from stars above to mortal plain, and come unto me in my time of need! I summon thee, Osiris, lord of the skies!”

In all honesty, the fancy words are unnecessary once you are trained enough in the art of summoning your _ka,_ but it will help Ryou and Bakura to get a grasp of what they can use to concentrate on the task at hand. Bakura has seen my _ka_ in the past, but Ryou hasn’t, and he looks on in awe at the undulating, serpentine form of Osiris, his scarlet hue a dramatic contrast to Kisara’s silver-white dragon, though both are equally as impressive, of course. Diabound and Necrofear inspect Osiris as if curious, though it’s difficult to tell from their faces. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Ryou whispers. “Who could have ever imagined such power in this world?”

“Better get used to it,” Bakura chuckles, “I’m sure there’s more where this came from.”

Kisara laughs at his words, and directs Azrael to the ground. “Are you ready?” Both brothers nod their assent. “Try to guide your _ka_ with your thoughts,” she explains. “They should respond to your desires. Remember, the summoning itself was strenuous, so try not to over-exert yourself at this stage. Management of your powers will come with time.”

“Ha, you doubt our abilities,” Bakura purrs, patting Diabound’s side.

“Don’t get over your head, Tou,” chides Ryou, but he’s smiling. “Alright, Kisara, Atem! Let’s do it!”

“Good luck!” Yugi calls.

“Osiris, go!”

“Azrael, show them what you’re made of!”

“Alright, Diabound! Let’s go!”

“Necrofear! I’m counting on you!”

Osiris and Diabound clash together in a blow so mighty, I swear the very earth shakes, and Osiris gives a roar of displeasure. Yugi trembles visibly at that, gazing up into the sky as they dance around each other. Osiris’ roar was what had fully alerted him to the storming of Zorc’s palace last year, and even now, even though he knows he is safe with me, the sound can make him nervous, dragging him back to his days in the dungeons. I would comfort him, but alas…I know he won’t let me, not with anybody else around.

Necrofear remains on the ground, her movements deceptively graceful, drawing Azrael closer. She dodges every blast from Azrael’s maw, and then, with a lazy flick of the wrist, surrounds him with a ghostly aura, pinning Azrael in place. Kisara gasps, clutching at her chest, and Ryou rushes over, grabbing at her shoulders. “What did I do?” he cries. “How do I stop it?”

“It’s okay,” she murmurs weakly, “don’t worry…just…hold on a moment…” She lifts a hand, and Azrael breaks free of the shadowy chains binding him, allowing Kisara to stand tall and strong again.

Our _ka_ batter away at each other for what feels like hours, but after Necrofear’s surprising display of strength over Azrael, we take it a little easier. Soon Ryou and Bakura are directing Necrofear and Diabound with ease, hardly even needing to move now; both sat down long ago, only directing their _ka_ with the odd twitch in their hands or face indicating their intentions. Eventually, it’s Yugi who calls time-out. “You’re going to be exhausted after all that,” he scolds, but he grins madly at the same time. “That was amazing, though. I’m so impressed. Seriously, good job!”

“Thanks,” Ryou smiles bashfully.

“Did you expect anything else?” Bakura interjects, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, sod off with that big head of yours,” Yugi replies sharply. Bakura sticks his tongue out in response. “Anyway, let’s head back, alright?” Yugi continues. “Kisara, would you report back to Seto on what happened here today?”

“Of course,” she nods. She looks a little paler than usual, but doesn’t complain, nor does she accept Yugi’s help as she clambers back onto her horse. I guess she will always be a little more fragile than the rest of us.

“I’ll take Kek off Marik-watch,” Ryou offers to Bakura, but he shakes his head. “Oh? You’re not too tired?”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “I’ll sit with him for a while. I…haven’t seen him today.”

My heart gives a small squeeze of sympathy for my old word-warring partner. Today has been a helpful distraction for him, I’m sure, but as soon as we get back to Kul Elna, he will withdraw into himself and remain by Marik’s side, silent and grieving. While I don’t understand what he’s going through, I know how much this is hurting him. He can’t mope forever, though…I need to think of a way to keep him active, if he’s going to be a part of our movement…

The trip back is relatively quiet. Ryou and Bakura discuss their new-found summoning abilities for some of the journey, but Bakura gradually becomes more and more clipped in his responses, till Ryou knows he doesn’t want to talk anymore. As soon as we return to Kul Elna and put the horses in the stables, he makes off for the medical tent to see Marik. Ryou follows him, presumably to fetch Kek after Bakura relieves him. “Poor boy,” Kisara says sadly, shaking her head, silvery locks waving back and forth. “This must be very hard on him. I pray Marik recovers soon.”

“I wish we knew what was wrong with him,” Yugi murmurs. “None of us have ever seen anything like this before. What if he never wakes up?”

“Don’t say that,” I scold softly. “There is hope. The more Items we gain possession of, the more knowledge we will have. I have faith we will restore Marik to his former self before long. He just has to hang on a little longer.”

“I hope you’re right, Atem.”

“Me too, aibou…”

Kisara departs soon after, to report to Seto and, no doubt, lie down and rest. I feel like doing the same thing, in all honesty. Yugi wasn’t wrong, we’re all exhausted. The walk back to my quarters is slow, with much yawning and rubbing of eyes, and Yugi seems to think little of accompanying me inside. “That took so much more out of me than I thought it would,” I admit as I flop down on my bed. “Did I underestimate Ryou and Bakura?”

“Maybe a little,” Yugi calls from the ensuite. I can hear water running faintly under the sounds of him clattering around. “Don’t worry about it, though. You’re all still alive, and they did really well, don’t you think?”

I start unbuckling the scant pieces of armour I chose to throw on today. “Oh, yes,” I agree, throwing my golden circlet to the mattress before tugging off my bracers, “it was beautiful to see. Are you drawing a bath, aibou?”

“You were soaked in sweat by the time you guys finished, Atem. Yes, I’m drawing a bath.”

“I could have done that myself.”

“Shut up and get your armour off, will you? I’ve been longing to stick my hands in your hair since this morning.”

That makes me laugh. “Are you getting in with me?”

“Does the sun rise in the east?”

“Easy, aibou,” I chuckle. With all my armour off, I pile it carefully into a chest at the foot of the bed, and shrug out of my damp, sticky undergarments, throwing them aside.

“Hmmm…water’s being temperamental again. It’s running cold.”

“That’s to be expected. This place was half-ruined when we came here, after all. I’ll heat it up with _heka_ in a moment.”

“Thanks, love.”

Once I hear the taps stop running, I haul myself up from the bed and cross the room to the ensuite. Yugi is sitting on the side of the tub, having removed his own clothing, smiling up at me as I approach. I peck his lips lightly as I stick my hand into the freezing water and let _heka_ flow through my fingers, heating the water and swirling it around. “In you get, aibou,” I smile. Yugi giggles and hops in, tugging on my hands to bring me in with him.

Mmm…oh, this is good…the temperature is perfect, and Yugi’s arms encircling me from behind feel heavenly. He presses kisses to my shoulder blades and nuzzles me, and in this moment, I wouldn’t ever want to be anywhere else.

“I think Bakura is onto us,” I murmur, and Yugi’s kisses cease immediately. I feel him sigh against my skin. “Sorry, aibou. You must have noticed as well.”

“…Yeah,” he replies softly.

“I know this is difficult for you, Yugi. I understand how hard it must be to let anyone see you in a potential position of favouritism – ”

“I told you, I’m not worried about myself, it’s you.”

"Why?"

"I just...I'm scared nobody would take you seriously if they knew..."

"Yugi," I cut in sharply, "I don't want to hide anymore." There's more authority in my voice than I feel comfortable using with Yugi, but I can't help myself. "My presence in this rebellion is not the be all and end all of the operation. Without me at the helm, there would still be you, Seto, Kisara, Mahad, Mana...and they are all people I have known and loved since my childhood. People can say what they will, I don't care. I know my closest friends will never abandon me for something as petty as loving you."

Yugi gives a little shiver against me. "I was a slave," he whispers. "I'm just a pathetic little boy who couldn't save himself. I'm useless."

How could I not have seen this before? Suddenly I realise what is making Yugi feel this way, and I spin around in his embrace, sending a cascade of water over the side of the tub. It soaks the floor, but I don't care; all that matters to me is Yugi as I cup his cheeks and kiss him, long and deep. He still trembles, but returns the kiss, sighing softly and letting his tongue brush against mine.

"You think you're unworthy of me," I whisper. It's a statement, not a question, and Yugi's eyes sparkle with tears as he nods. "Oh, Yugi..." I kiss him again and stroke his hair back from his face. "I am the one who is unworthy. Look at you! You are beautiful, wise, and intelligent beyond measure. The way you recovered from your time under Zorc was remarkable, and you threw yourself into the duties you took on with barely a backwards glance. What did _I_ do when the darkness came? I ran, and ran, and I couldn't do anything for anybody."

"You were a child," Yugi sniffs.

"Aibou...you have become stronger in mind than many of the men I have had around me my whole life. I did not make you my second in command lightly. I did it because I knew you were the best person for the job, not because I was falling in love with you. I took you from that dungeon, but believe me when I say it was _you_ that saved yourself. That sharp brain of yours is testament to that. So don't - " I kiss his lips again, "ever - " another kiss, "think...you...don't...deserve...me."

"Oh gods, Atem," Yugi chokes out. His hands curl into my hair, and he presses our foreheads together, shaking despite the heat of the water around us. "Oh gods, I've been such a fool. I've denied myself true happiness this whole time, and been selfish, and how I must have hurt you. I'm so sorry!"

"Hush now...it's okay," I reply gently. "Regardless, I will always love you." That makes him flash a watery smile. "And here you go...you've got your hands in my hair now, just as you wanted."

"Oh…so I do.” The scared edge in Yugi's voice is beginning to retreat now as he calms down. “C-Can I…can I wash it for you?”

I nod and reach behind me for the tiny bottle of shampoo I’ve managed to save. We're going to have to send a caravan into Lux for supplies soon; most of us are running out of toiletries now and have been rationing the remaining stock, but it’s been difficult to muster enough manpower for taking on jobs, as there have been so many demon attacks in the last few weeks. As a result, our funds are seriously lacking. It just hasn’t been safe to leave us so unprotected, so we have just had to make do recently.

I swivel round again, and lean my head back. Yugi’s fingers are gentle as he runs them through my hair, soaking each strand and lathering them up with sweet-smelling foam. “So…” I purr, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensations, “does this mean you would be more open to people knowing about us?”

Yugi’s movements slow down a little as he thinks. “I’d…like to talk to my friends first,” he replies hesitantly. “Jou, Anzu and Honda…they deserve to know first.”

“Of course, aibou. Whatever makes you happy.”

“You being happy makes me happy.” Yugi presses a kiss to the side of my neck and begins rinsing the suds from my hair. “I suppose it’s been long enough now, and if this is what it takes for us to be truly content and comfortable, then so be it. I don’t want to be selfish anymore.”

“Hmm, did you want me all for yourself?”

Yugi laughs lightly. “Maybe just a little.”

“Oh, aibou. You always had me to yourself, regardless of secrecy.” I turn round again, and pull Yugi into my lap. The tub isn’t very big, so there’s some knocking of knees as we adjust our positions. I end up with my head nestled on Yugi’s chest, my hands wandering over his back as he nuzzles into my hair and sighs happily. “These days are dark, Yugi…and sometimes I wonder if we will ever see the light again. But with you by my side, battling through is just that little bit easier.”

“You hopeless sap,” Yugi giggles.

“Excuse me, you love my sappiness.”

“Whatever you say, Highness.”

“Now, now…you know what you calling me that does to me.”

Yugi lifts my chin up, so I face him. His cheeks are a little flushed, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “What are you going to do about it, Highness?”

Oh, he knows what I’m going to do about it. Luckily for us, lube _isn’t_ something we’ve had to ration.


	26. Marik

* * *

How long have I been here...?

It feels like I have been floating through a haze forever...

Trapped inside my mind and reliving my past somehow...

Nobody can see me. Believe me, I've tried getting their attention, but I don't exist here, not truly. I'm alone, with no idea how to escape.

_"Master Marik...our father wishes to see you."_

That's Rishid's voice. I turn around to look at him as my younger self does so too. He must be around thirteen or fourteen here, and looking every inch the blank, emotionless shell that I used to be. His eyes appear so dead, so devoid of lustre, that it sends a shiver down my spine as I look at myself.

_"I will go to him as soon as I have finished with my studies.”_

_“He was insistent, young Master.”_

_“He cannot force me. I will go to him soon. Thank you, Rishid.”_

An odd ripple of sensation runs through me, and I frown, glancing around with a suspicious eye. Nothing has been able to interact with me the whole time I’ve been here, so why now, and what could it be? The sensation dissipates after a few moments, and I look back at my younger self to see that he has gone back to flicking through the pages of the old, leather-bound tome on his lap. After a few minutes, he puts the book aside and stands, rubbing absently at his back, then starts off through the tombs. Curious, I follow him.

I was respected as a child. Of course I was, being the heir of the tomb-keepers and their legacy, so my past self is privy to many inclined heads and murmured _“young Masters”_ as he goes. But he barely acknowledges anybody, eyes flicking in their direction for a mere moment before turning away again.

My father, Lord Khamsin Ishtar, sits at a table, writing on parchment with a feathered quill. He looks up as my younger self approaches, and gives a smile, but it never reaches his eyes. His smiles never did. _“Marik,”_ he says by way of greeting. _“Sit down, son. It’s time we discussed your duties here, now that you are older.”_

I settle down on the floor, watching as my younger self pulls back a chair with the screech of wood on stone, and sits down slowly. His face registers nothing, no thoughts or emotions whatsoever. _“Do you mean my inheritance?”_ he asks. _“I don’t want it. I never wanted it. Give it to Rishid.”_

_“Rishid is not my son, Marik. You alone are the heir to our legacy.”_

I feel myself shaking my head in sync with my younger self. Father was forever trying to make me see the positive side of being in such a high position, but all excitement for my future had died the day I was strapped to the stone slab for my back to be carved open. I scowl, and at that moment, the peculiar sensation runs through me again, the one I felt before. It’s like eyes are locked onto me, a hand squeezing around my heart. “Um…hello?” I call out. “Am I alone here?”

That’s a silly question…of course I am. Whatever the Pendant did to me, it hasn’t thrown anyone else in here with me.

“Oh, thank fuck!”

Oh!

That…that voice - !

“Marik!” A heavy weight barrels into my side, knocking the wind out of me as I crash to the floor. Shocked, I lash out on instinct, but my hand just gets tangled in thick spikes of stiff hair.

“Hey now, I’m not _that_ scary anymore…I think,” Kek grins from his perch atop me, straddling my hips and looking incredibly pleased with himself. He's armed to the teeth with his bow and various knives, a large scrape across his cheek and his clothes bloodied and torn. “You look well for someone who’s been comatose for a fortnight.”

“A…fortnight?” I gasp. “Wait a moment, forget that – how did you…I mean, what are you –”

“I fought my way back inside your mind,” Kek explains. “I was once part of you, so I figured I might be able to get back in, and find out what was going on. It took some pushing, but it worked. Thank fuck for shadow magic, eh?”

I laugh weakly, shoving at Kek to get him to move off me. He’s really heavy! Must be all that muscle. He’s the last person I expected to see, and once upon a time his presence would have scared me, but I’m so happy to have someone by my side again that I could honestly kiss him.

Kek looks around curiously, his wide grin dropping into a furious scowl when he sees Father. “What’s going on?” he asks me. “Why is Father here? Are we looking at our memories?”

“It seems so,” I nod. “I don’t know if they’re trying to tell me something, but so far, all I’ve gleaned is that I’m on my own, and nobody can see me, and I can’t get out.”

“We’re doing everything we can to bring you round," Kek murmurs. His eyes are still firmly fixed on Father, a disgusted expression curling his lip. “Have you noticed anything here that we wouldn’t have picked up on as children?”

“No…I can’t say I have.”

_“To have undergone the initiation was a great honour, Marik. I would have hoped you would be eager to know more about the position this will put you in once you are an adult.”_

_“No, Father. I’ve no wish to do anything.”_

_“You say that as though you think you have a choice in the matter.”_

_“I told you, let Rishid assume my title. He’s older. He’s willing.”_

_“No!”_ Father slams a hand on the table, his patience gone. I don’t react, but Kek jumps, grabbing my arm. I feel a tremble run through him, and I remember that he was borne from the surging tide of emotions that fled my soul during my initiation, the hate, the fear, the lust for blood. Our father must be a frightening figure to him, more so than he was to me. Where I blocked out much of the trauma, Kek had to deal with it head-on. _“We have survived the darkness for as long as we have done because of the rituals we partake in, and the prayers we speak!”_ Father growls. _“Do you think yourself the only one that endured a little pain from your initiation? Do not be selfish, child! It is high time you began to accept your responsibilities!”_

If anybody spoke to me like that now, I know I would probably shrink back, and wonder whether I was in danger. But my – no…our – our younger self just stares at Father with an unflinching blankness. It’s highly unnerving to see ourselves like that, knowing I used to be such an empty shell. How the last few months have changed us!

The scene before us begins to swirl and fade, becoming nothing but a distant smudge in the back of my head. Kek releases my arm and sighs heavily. "What the hell have I thrown myself into?" he mutters to himself. "This is so fucked up."

"We'll see something else in a few minutes," I explain.

This is how it has been from the moment I realised what I was seeing; a fragment of my past, dissolving away after a fleeting moment to open up another door into my memories. I've seen most of my life in the time I've been trapped inside my own thoughts. Things I had blocked out, things I had forgotten...it all came back to me in a whirlwind of confusion. What am I supposed to do?

"Kek, we have to get out of here. Whatever the Pendant did to me, surely it can be undone."

"We're really trying," Kek frowns, "but so far, nothing has worked. It's an Item that did this to you, so maybe an Item can - wait!" He suddenly grabs my shoulders. "Otogi's report! He said there was one down here!"

"Otogi's report?" I repeat. "What are you talking about? Did we make it to Kul Elna?"

"Yeah, we did, and I'll explain all that later, but listen - there's a Millennium Item in the tombs! I've not said anything to anyone, but as soon as I heard the report, I knew this was where they'd been looking. Marik! We have to try and remember what it is. We must have seen it!"

"You're serious?"

"Do I fucking look like I'm kidding, short stuff?"

I open my mouth to reply, but the scene before us begins to form back into something visible, and when it blurs back into existence, we see our younger self, around sixteen years old now, nude from the waist up and contorted into an awkward position as he pours oil over his back. The scars are so much angrier-looking than they do on us in the present time, and I can't help wondering if it has anything to do with the fact we have been able to expose myself to sunlight now.

Kek watches with a bemused expression, smirking. "I bet you're grateful to have Bakura now, aren't you? Twisting ourselves around like that was hell."

I nod slowly. "Do your scars bother you, Kek?"

"No," he replies. "They ache, but pain is a part of me. I pay it no mind. Not for you, though...they're something you wish you could be rid of."

"Don't you wish that too?"

"The past is the past. We can't change anything through wanting something strongly enough."

As we watch, footsteps tap softly into the room, and Ishizu steps in. Our younger self quickly turns round, hiding his scars from view. _"Oh...Sister,"_ he murmurs, visibly relaxing, _"it's just you."_

 _"Marik,"_ she smiles. _"Are you well?"_

He shakes his head. _"They hurt...more than usual."_

_"I wish I could do something for you."_

_"Nobody is...you aren't allowed to touch them. Father says it is forbidden."_

_"I know, but even still..."_ Ishizu sits down on the hard bed, running a hand through her hair. She looks pale and tired, and with a jolt, I realise this is around the time she started getting sick, the time the plague began to take us all _. "I don't ever wish to go against Father's orders, you know that, but if you would permit me, I believe I have a salve in my bedroom that might ease the discomfort for a time."_

_"If it's you. Just you. Nobody else, okay?"_

_"Of course, Brother. Wait here, I'll be right back."_ She hops up and hurries to her room, only absent for a minute or two before returning with a small pot. _"I made this several days ago in the hopes it might heal a sore patch on my arm. Hopefully it will work for your back too. Please turn around, and I will put it on you."_

Our younger self hesitates a moment, unsure. I remember this being one of the hardest decisions since the initiation; letting another gaze upon the ruin of my back. It was one of the few emotions I still possessed back then. But after a moment, he sits down on the bed, facing away from Ishizu, allowing her to start rubbing the salve gently over the scars.

Beside me, Kek lets out an audible sigh. "I remember how good that stuff felt. What was in it?"

"I don't know," I shrug, "but it was amazing. We had no pain for days after she put it on."

"And she got so sick in that time that she couldn't tell us how to make it up."

"Yes..."

"Do you miss her?"

"Terribly. I never used to, but seeing this...I would give anything to have her and Rishid back."

Kek nods sadly. "Yeah...me too. They were good to us."

It's so surreal, seeing our younger self with eyes closed in what could easily pass for relaxation, allowing Ishizu to coat his scars with salve. I'm sure I had blocked this memory out, but here it is, clear as day.

 _"It's almost time for prayers,"_ Ishizu says quietly. _"Please don't tell Father I did this for you."_

 _"I won't,"_ our younger self replies. _"I've no wish to see you punished."_

Prayers...

Hang on a moment - !

Father, he had -

"Kek!" I cry out. "It's..."

"What? Marik, what?!"

Before I can respond, a sharp tug in my chest makes me gasp, and I'm suddenly aware of a flood of sound into my mind; shouting, the clash of metal on metal, horses screaming, and above it all, a violent roar. Overwhelmed, I crash to my knees, hands over my ears. "What's going on?" I whisper. "Kek, can't you hear it? It's like a war in my head!"

"Oh, yeah...um, there's kind of a demon attack happening at the moment - wait! You can hear it?!"

"It's so loud - ! Kek, it hurts. My chest, my head! It hurts so much!"

Pain explodes up my spine, and I think I scream, but my head is so full of fog that everything becomes hazy. Our surroundings fade out into pure darkness, the sounds of fighting and shouting becoming louder. I reach out blindly for Kek, but I can't find him, and the pain in my back is getting stronger, stronger -

I jerk up, and Kek is there again, hovering above me, his face white. I realise I'm lying on my back, but when I try to sit up, the agony is too much, and I can barely move. I'm...I'm awake! I'm awake!

"Marik?" Kek whispers, touching my cheek with his fingers. "Hey, you did it. You're conscious again."

"Kek," I gasp. My own fingers close around his wrist in a grip faltering and limp from lack of use, and every muscle in my body feels exhausted.

"Kek, it's the sceptre. Father's sceptre...that's the Millennium Item in the tombs."


	27. Marik

Kek’s eyes widen, looking very much like the entire world of realisation has slapped him full in the face. His mouth drops open into a slack display of shock and realisation before he exclaims, "Fuck, of course it is! Then we've no time to waste."

He goes to scramble upright, but a sharp voice cuts through his motions –

"You're going nowhere, freakshow! Now get your ass up and help me kill some demons!"

That's - !

A silver-topped head pops up over Kek's shoulder, grinning madly and looking just as beat up as Kek. "Rise and shine, beautiful. Good to have you back with us!"

"Kura!" I exclaim, relief flooding my heart.

"Can you stand?"

"I don't think I can even sit," I admit weakly. "My back is all seized up."

"Then let us protect you, alright?" Bakura winks. "And later, we have a lot of catching up to do."

"Stop flirting already and help _m_ e kill some demons!" a voice I don't recognise calls out. There's a roar, and a demon is thrown across the room by a fiery arrow, its user appearing by Kek's elbow and barely even coming up to it. I guess this is Yugi, judging by his height. "Sorry to be a pain, Marik, but I'm taking these two back into the fight," he smiles, grabbing both Bakura and Kek and shoving them towards the exit of what I now see is a tent. "We'll leave Diabound with you, though!"

"Diabound?" I ask, but they're already gone.

Moments later, I'm answered by a flash of white light, and then a serpentine tail coils around the bed, a bulky body following. Shocked, I gasp, instinctively drawing back. The face that gazes down at me is solemn, almost stern, but as it watches, unblinking, never moving a muscle, a purity emanates from it…so profound, I soon realise I’m in no danger around it.

"What...are you?" I whisper, reaching a hand out towards it. It lets me touch its cheek, and at that moment, an immense rush of intimately familiar sensations wash over me; cigarette smoke on the wind…the whistling slice of a blade through the air… calloused hands massaging oil into my scars… soft, plump lips sliding against mine…

"Bakura...you're a part of Bakura, aren't you?"

Diabound nods, and I feel my face break out into an uncontrollable smile.

I've woken up in the midst of a war, but I know I'm safe here, literally enveloped in my partner's love. Diabound scoops me up into its arms and I gasp, squirming on instinct and then seizing up completely, sparks of agony flashing up my spine. Diabound’s hold on me tightens, as if it senses my pain. “What are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking, barely audible over the clash of metal resonating around us.

The heavenly creature doesn’t look down, its eyes casting about the tent, but I hear a voice inside my head…

_“You need to be moved elsewhere.”_

The words seem to have entered my brain without first travelling through my ears, or, indeed, even the air. They’re just… _there._

“How did you do that?” I gasp, but Diabound is already moving, and I grasp onto its arm hurriedly. Surely it’s too big to exit the tent? How will it take me outside - ?

Holy fuck! We just went straight through the side of the –

Wow, now I’ve seen it all. Diabound can travel through walls as if they’re nothing, and the same went for me. Maybe for as long as I can touch Diabound, I am able to do the things it can.

We’re flying over the scene of the battle now, and for all the pain in my body, I can’t resist leaning out a little to observe. We’re above a shabby, stone-walled town, its streets teeming with the rush of demons and humans alike. Shouts and screams ring out above the clash of metal, and in the distance, the rumbling explosion of some great magical power. Could it be Ryou? Or Kek, maybe? No, he only just left…there’s no way he could have gotten over there that fast…

“Gods, this is terrible.”

 _“The rebels have the upper hand.”_ Diabound’s voice reverberates again in my head. It’s certainly an odd sensation, hearing this presence I didn’t permit, but at the same time, it’s a little soothing, its tone a rich timbre reminiscent of the echo within a deep cavern. _“Preparation was swift, and many have already fled at the appearance of Osiris.”_

I’ve read stories about a beast with such a name. Osiris, Obelisk, Ra…the gods that once held sway over the land, many millennia ago. To think that one of them is in the possession of the rebels…! How times have changed.

I want to keep staring at the battle, but Diabound moves fast, and soon my eyes water from the rushing wind, so I close them and turn towards Diabound’s bulky chest, shielding myself as best I can in my half-paralysed state.

As we fly, I ponder. I’ve been unconscious for two weeks…just how much have I missed in that time? We made it to Kul Elna, that much I know, and this creature, Diabound, has somehow manifested from Bakura. There is much I feel I must ask of my friends. I just hope that they all make it back in one piece…

And Yugi. I finally saw Yugi. He really _is_ as short as Otogi said, and the thought makes me chuckle quietly. It’s a rarity to see someone shorter than Bakura. I wonder how he’s been getting on with everybody here. No doubt, Ryou has settled right in with his friendly charm. Kek…I don’t know about Kek. My guess is he sticks by Ryou’s side as much as possible.

“Where are we going?” I ask Diabound, loud as I can over the roar of the wind.

_“Not much further now.”_

Eventually, Diabound begins to slow down, and I can visualise the rushing landscape a little better now. The expanse of weathered wasteland stretches out below us, a muddle of earth and scorched scrub brush. Nothing definitive, but Diabound seems to know exactly where we’re headed. It descends towards the ground and begins to loosen its hold on me, until with a gentle _thump,_ we land beneath a jagged outcrop of rock.

The instant coolness against my skin is like a healing balm, and I can’t help but sigh happily as Diabound shifts me into the shade. “My back is still frozen,” I remark with a frown.

_“I will remain until you are able to return. Worry not.”_

“I’m not worried. I’m just…in a lot of pain.”

_“Can you be strong?”_

“I’ll try.”

It’s times like these I really could do with taking a few magic lessons from Ryou. The way he managed to heal his own deep scarring, he could probably work wonders on mine, but…despite everything, I’m not sure I could go through with erasing that history…not when I’m the only one left.

Is it really that important to me? Retaining that accursed heritage?

I suppose it’s difficult to break the mindset when it’s all you’ve ever known…

I think I drifted off for a while, for the sun is beginning to dim in the sky by the time I raise my head and take in my surroundings once more. Diabound is still here, its tail curled in a wide circle on the ground around me, its human body sitting tall and straight, eyes unblinking. It’s like looking at a statue of purest marble…I’ve seen pictures of such statues in books. The creature gives off much the same aura of majesty and importance – and to think I was frightened of it!

 _“The battle is over.”_ Diabound’s voice echoes within my mind once more.

“Is anyone hurt?” I ask.

_“There were minimal fatalities amongst the rebels. Nobody close to you was seriously hurt.”_

I can breathe a sigh of relief. My heart hammers in my chest, a peculiar feeling I don’t remember having felt in a long time. If I had to put a name to the sensation, it would be anxiety.

“Take me back.” I really don’t mean for it to sound like an order, and I regret saying it like that almost instantly, but Diabound doesn’t look offended, if it even knows how to. “I mean to say – ” I continue, “that is – please – ”

Diabound’s head lifts ever so slightly, looking back the way we came. _“Someone approaches. Do not be alarmed; they are an ally.”_

Curiosity leads me to try and peer round Diabound’s body, but the familiar pain shoots up my spine again and I slump back with a groan. I suppose it makes sense, to be in such a state after lying motionless for a fortnight…but still, I hope this does not last long. I don’t want to be a burden.

The sound of galloping hooves echo across the wasteland in a way that makes it impossible to tell how far away they are. With tiny twitches, I manage to shift a few inches across and lean my head outwards, finally able to see past Diabound. I have to squint a little, not accustomed to looking out over such a distance, but the flowing chestnut hair and dark skin look familiar…

“Hey! You okay over there?”

It’s…oh, of course, it’s the young girl we met in Lux. Mana? I think that was her name. She’s covering the distance at breakneck speed, but her horse looks well-built and suited for the intense pace. Within a minute, the galloping has increased to dull thundering, and it isn’t long before she’s tethering the hose and bounding over to Diabound and I.

“Still in one piece, I see! You’ve got a good bodyguard here.” Mana winks at Diabound. “Thanks, big guy. I’ll take it from here.”

Diabound inclines its head. _“Guard him well.”_ Slowly, it fades away until it’s nothing more than a pinprick of light. It feels oddly lonely without his holy power surrounding me.

Mana reaches her hands out to me. "Kek says you're not able to move by yourself yet. Want me to help you up onto the horse?"

"Can you?" I ask, blinking.

"I'm stronger than I look, you know!"

"...Okay - _whoa, careful!"_ Mana hoists me over her shoulder like I'm little more than a backpack, and carries me to where her horse is tethered. "You weren't lying," I laugh weakly.

"It's always the small ones," Mana beams, and with use of some of her magic, she settles me into place on the horse and hops up behind me to steady my dead weight. "Confident riding like this?"

I think back to the first time I rode Cleo with Bakura behind me. How good his arms felt around my waist, his body heat soothing the aggravation of my scars. "Yes, this is fine," I tell Mana. "You might need to help me guide him, though. My legs are a bit shaky."

"Way ahead of you." Mana slips her feet into the stirrups. "Alright, let's go!"

With my hands on the reins, and Mana assisting, and her body supporting mine, we begin the journey back to Kul Elna. "How far?" I call over the pounding of the horse's hooves.

"Three leagues, tops," Mana replies. "Diabound didn't carry you a great distance."

"Did Bakura give the order to move me?"

"He must have done. _Ka_ don't respond willingly to others unless their _ba_ specifies otherwise."

 _Ka? Ba?_ I'm afraid I don't understand the terms Mana is using, but I suppose I will find out later, so I give the reins a light jolt, and the horse picks up the pace with a whinny and a snort. “Mana, how did the battle start?”

A whisper of a sigh ruffles my hair. “One of the training squads raised the alarm when they encountered an enemy camp. Their trail was leading straight here, so we had them pull out before anyone got seriously hurt.”

“Diabound tells me there were minimal casualties.”

“We’ve lost a few troops, yes, but not enough to put a serious dent in our numbers. They’ll be given every honour and burial rite afforded them…I just thank the gods we didn’t lose more.”

I think of Amane then, how all of Amarna had come to say their goodbyes. A flutter of sadness drifts across my heart; would she have even remembered the town she was born in? She never got the chance to come home again…this land is surely cursed with death and despair.

The journey to Kul Elna is uneventful, but the aftermath of the battle rolls thicker and thicker into view with each passing second. Twisted, demonic bodies litter the blood-streaked ground, their weapons lying heavy beside them. The tingle of magic in the air is tainted by the stench of death and malevolence.

“What happens to the bodies?” I ask Mana.

“Burned,” she replies. “We’ll be digging a pit and flinging the demons into it. No honourable burials for them.”

Makes me wonder if Kek can just banish the lot, like he did with the slave trader…I shake my head and we continue onwards till we reach an old hut, charred and scuffed from battle. Mana uses her magic to hold me in place while she dismounts, then helps me to the ground, letting me lean on her heavily. My legs are like jelly – they won’t support me at all, and I soon buckle under the strain. “Easy now,” Mana soothes.

“I-I’m sorry,” I gasp.

“It’s not your fault, silly. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“The horse – ” I stammer as we begin to move again. Spikes of agony flash white-hot up my spine and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“He’ll make his way back to the stables. He’s a clever guy.”

My feet might as well be dragging along the floor for all the use I am right now, but Mana keeps me held up and supported as we cross the threshold. It’s not the tent I woke up in – maybe it was destroyed in the fight? – but as soon as we enter, the thrum of magical aura grows infinitely stronger, enveloping me in a pure, soothing state of mind reminiscent of Diabound…a moment later, a white and red blur tackles me in a tight hug.

“Marik! Oh, thank heavens you’re okay!”

If it weren’t for Mana supporting me, I’d have toppled to the floor. My back and throat scream their protests, and Ryou draws back, looking horrified. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t think – oh gods, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” I grimace. “Just a bit sore.”

“Let me help you lie down, okay?” Ryou loops an arm through mine, and together with Mana, he moves me to a stack of cushions on the floor. After so long sat up stiffly, to have softness beneath me is utter bliss. “Better?” Ryou asks, as he shifts a few cushions around.

“Much better,” I sigh.

Ryou smiles gently and reaches out to take my hand. He looks tired, so tired, and splattered with blood, gore and goodness knows what else, but the ever-present brightness in his eyes shines through the scarlet-brown-black mess streaking his pale face. “I’m glad you’re awake,” he whispers. “We were all so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault...you felt the dark power coming from the Pendant…I should never have put it on.”

“No use blaming yourself now. All that matters is that you’re okay.”

“Where are Kek and Bakura?”

“Kek’s helping out with moving bodies. Tou…” Ryou lets out a short laugh. “He expended so much energy keeping Diabound watching over you, that he fainted as soon as he withdrew. He’s resting up somewhere in town.”

“I see he’s as reckless as ever,” I chuckle. “And you, Ryou? Are you injured?”

“No,” he says, still smiling. “A few bumps and scrapes, but nothing major. All of us got off pretty easy, actually.” He waves a hand somewhere behind him, and for the first time I realise there are many more people in here with us. I guess I’d been so overcome by my pain that I hadn’t noticed them. They’re all as roughed-up as Ryou, if not more, and most are nursing wounds, but on the whole, nobody appears to be seriously hurt in here.

Mana touches my arm and nods at Ryou. “I’d best run back to the prince. He’ll be wanting an update on what’s been going on.”

“Okay,” Ryou nods back. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. You stay and rest up for the time being, though!” Mana blows Ryou a playful kiss and then bounds off.

Ryou swivels and flops down on the cushions beside me, resting his forehead against my shoulder. “I’m exhausted,” he murmurs. “I helped out as best I could afterwards, healing people up, but even after accessing my higher powers in Amarna, it wasn’t enough.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I reply softly. “I’m sure you did an amazing job.”

“Yeah, but…I don’t even have enough energy in me right now to try and heal your back.”

“I’m not injured. The sensation will come back with time, I’m sure.”

There are so many questions I want to ask Ryou. Just what _is_ Diabound? How much have I missed? Are we going to be any use here?

But I, too, am so very tired…and I can’t stop my eyelids from fluttering up and down as I fight the sleep trying to overtake me, but it’s no use. My head tilts down, nuzzling against the crown of Ryou’s fluffy head, and I stop fighting. I guess…I need the rest, even after a fortnight unconscious…


End file.
